


Gold in the Air of Summer

by Lemon (lemon_sprinkles)



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Coming Out, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Friendship, Homophobia, M/M, Male Homosexuality, New Relationship, Oral Sex, POV Male Character, Romance, Sexual Content, Sexual Experimentation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-15
Updated: 2014-07-03
Packaged: 2018-01-24 21:19:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 40,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1617443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemon_sprinkles/pseuds/Lemon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being different is never easy, particularly when you grow up a Baratheon. All Renly ever wanted was to fit in and be accepted, but after years of pretending to be someone he's not, Renly has to come to terms with these differences. This this time, however, he's not alone, and finds happiness in the very thing he was trying to deny. </p><p> Modern AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cliche Meetings

**Author's Note:**

> Authors Note: This fic will be broken up into either five or six chapters. Updated every week for five (or six) weeks straight. This chapter is much, much shorter than the other ones will be. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Also, please excuse the shoddy summary. 
> 
> Shout out to Danielle for beta'ing this!

Ask Renly if he thought himself a Baratheon and he’d probably lie to you.

Depending on his mood, he’d either smile and nod and say that of course he was a Baratheon—a strong stag, through and through. But if he had no one to impress and felt particularly scornful, he’d laugh at the question and claim he wasn’t even related to Robert and Stannis. Truth was, however, Renly didn’t really know either way. One moment he’d be pushing his brother’s away, distancing himself from their stifling personalities and their narrow minded views on the world, and the next he’d be sitting in his father’s old office, staring at a photograph of him and wishing desperately to live up to the Baratheon name he’d left behind. He wanted to be a Baratheon, but loathed the idea of being connected to the name. He wished to please his brothers, and yet did everything in his power to defy them. He wanted to be loved, and yet pushed away all those who tried to give him some semblance of a family.

He was, to put it mildly, completely bewildered.

Renly always believed he never owed his family anything, and that he cared very little what they thought about him. While he couldn’t exactly escape his last name, he could certainly try and make his own path by carving out a new legacy that did not revolve around Stannis’ bald spot or Robert’s womanizing and drinking. But try as he might, Renly couldn’t shake away every single thing about the last name. As much as he tried to delude himself into believing he honestly did not care what his brother’s thought of him, it was a lie. A deep rooted, knotted lie that twisted at his heart anytime he so much as thought of snipping away the last vestiges of his brothers’ hold on him. Perhaps it was the knowledge that they were the last links to a mother and father he never knew but desperately wanted to, or perhaps it was just a fear that if he left them he’d never find anyone else who would take him in.

Apathy, he figured, was better than not belonging.

But then something happened to Renly that threatened to topple over the carefully balanced relationship he had with his family, because when Renly hit puberty, he wasn’t exactly like his brothers— or most boys in fact. And it terrified him. Scared him so badly that he panicked, and instead of embracing who he was, he spooked from it—shoved his feelings aside and deluded himself into believing that what he was chasing after was what he really wanted. Because there was no way in hell that Robert and Stannis Baratheon would ever accept Renly if he ever told him what he was—how he felt and what he desired.

Staying a Baratheon was so important to Renly that he had willingly denied who he really was and pretended to be someone he wasn’t, all for the chance of belonging to something that he wasn’t sure he really wanted to belong to in the first place. But as he had told himself when he was a small boy—it was better to be alone in a crowd than it was to be alone without anyone.

****

There was something to be said for boredom—it could certainly rouse even the worst procrastinator to get something done. Staring down at his art history book, Renly flipped through the pages idly, a cup of non-descript black coffee resting next to him as he sat in a small, stuffy café on campus, the steam from the espresso machine punctuating the murmur of conversation. The café was, blessedly, relatively quiet compared to the rest of the campus, where first-years scrambled about from hallway to hallway, searching for their classes or attempting to find the campus bookstore—something they were obviously regretting having not done weeks before the start of class. Still, Renly could not fault them too badly, considering he’d just spent half an hour in line with Royce who had forgotten to pick up his required texts.

Having had enough of the mass of people for a time, Renly escaped to a small café hidden away in the basement of the Earth and Science building, awaiting the start of his Art History course—a course he’d picked on a whim, hoping it would get him some easy credits and a shiny ‘A’ to make all of his B’s look alright.

He hadn’t been paying much attention to the artwork on the pages, having no desire to take a serious look at the handprints on cave walls or the white faceless humanoid figurines that seemed to come in all shapes and sizes, but stopped on a page in the Roman artwork section.

It was a simple marble bust, finely carved by loving hands and reconstructed with tender care. The nose had been knocked off but placed back on, a line from the bridge to the tip visible and yet not at all distracting. The boy’s head was turned to the side, as if to glance over his shoulder, a small smile tugging at his full lips—coy, almost. His eyes, though carved from stone, held a certain life to them, and Renly found he wished to meet the statues gaze. Curly hair swirled about the top of his head, each twist leading to another line, a labyrinth of deeply carved marble. Turning the page over, Renly saw more photographs of the boy, in various poses made out of all types of stone and by numerous sculptors—but it was the same boy, that much he was sure of.

Finally tearing his gaze away from the photographs, he read the side description, a name appearing that went with the Adonis. Antinous— his name was Antinous, beloved of the Roman Emperor Hadrian, whose memory was commemorated after he passed away. Renly could see why the boy was loved by the most powerful man in the Empire. If the statues were anything to go by, he was quite the beauty. It was a shame he passed away so young.

“Is the coffee here any good?”

Renly tried not to visibly jump as his heart scrambled up his throat and decided to jump around in between his eyes. He’d been so lost in the man on the pages he forgot he was in a public place, and willed his cheeks to stop burning red as he casually closed the book, trying to look like he hadn’t just been staring at a statue’s rump. “Depends on your definition of…” he began, before he trailed off as soon as he looked up at the man in front of him. For a second he thought he’d forgotten to close the book and was still staring at a painted statue of Antinous. But why a statue of Antinous would be hanging around in a coffee shop in the basement of the Earth and Science building, Renly would never know.

No, the man before him was certainly real and was most decidedly not a statue, but that didn’t dispel the uncanny resemblance he had with the boy he’d been admiring in the pages just short moments ago. Tall and lanky, he stood in front of Renly’s table, hands wrapped around the strap of his new book bag, a relaxed, casually air about him, his hip cocked off to the side. His head was slowly leaning sideways, his honey-brown curls framing high cheekbones and a strong jaw, and Renly’s eyes followed the length of his long nose to rest on the upward curve of full lips. His gaze immediately looked back up when he saw the smile falter, and he locked eyes with the man, hazel hues twinkling with curiosity.

He was gorgeous.

For a man, that was.

Coughing, Renly sat a little straighter and smiled casually, internally berating himself for his behaviour. “Sorry, I just had something in my throat. The coffee here is fine, if you don’t mind the occasional wait.”

“It gets busy?” the boy asked, his smile returning.

“Depends on the time of day, but it can get fairly packed. Just don’t come between eleven and one and you should be alright. It’s better than some of the other places, though.”

“And the coffee is good?”

Renly was beginning to wonder why this bloke was so concerned about coffee, when he began to answer his question without needing to be prompted.

“Sorry, I’m just—well, I’m new here, and I wanted to find a good place to get coffee before I did anything else. I know my priorities are pretty shite, but I don’t think I could get through a semester without a good cup of coffee.”

Renly found himself smiling as he explained himself, and didn’t mind that his neck was beginning to hurt as he craned his head upward to look at him. “It’s good. I mean, nothing spectacular, but it’ll get you through at least two lectures before you feel a need to sleep. I’m Renly by the way—welcome to the campus.”

He held his hand out, and the boy took it easily, long, spider fingers wrapping around his hand to give it a steady shake. That was the shake of someone who was used to shaking hands—confident but not dominating. He must have been important somewhere.

“I’m Loras. Loras Tyrell. Pleasure to meet you.”

And there it was. He was a Tyrell. Renly didn’t know the family personally, but he’d heard of them during the random functions he was dragged to with Robert. They were ‘new money’ who built themselves up through the media business. They took a newspaper chain and made it into a television news network that broadcasted all across Europe. They were also well known in the riding circuit after one of their sons fell from his horse and broke his leg at a show jumping event.

Renly wondered if Loras rode as well.

“Have you been here long? I mean at the university, not sitting with your coffee,” Loras asked.

“I’m in my last year, thank God.” Renly wanted to scream with joy that he was almost done, but also didn’t want to frighten the first-year student who was currently standing in front of him, appearing very eager and completely deluded about what university was really like.

Loras looked like he was about to say something further but stopped mid vowel and reached into his back pocket, pulling out his mobile. “Bugger—it’s my sister. I need to take this. But I’m glad I met you, Renly.” He flashed Renly a large smile, and for a second Renly thought maybe he actually _was_ glad to have met him, rather than just saying it because it was what people usually said.

“You, too,” he replied, and watched as Loras left the café without his coffee. Staring out the doorway, Renly fiddled with the sleeve around his cup, thinking about Loras’ smile, and how it was unlike any other smile he’d seen. It had made him uncomfortable for reasons he couldn’t quite peg, and it was with relief that he went out with his mates to the pub later that evening, where all thoughts of the curly haired boy who looked so much like a statue were swept away with each glass of ale.


	2. Temptation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Thanks for all the awesome feedback you guys! I decided to change the updates to Wednesday rather than Thursday (I volunteer at a local museum on Thursdays and Fridays so it's just easier for me). Hope you enjoy this chapter and again, thank you for the feedback!
> 
> Shout out to Danielle for beta'ing!

“I promise she’ll be here. She said she was coming.”

Renly nodded over top his bottle, trying his hardest not to roll his eyes. Caron had been repeating variations of ‘she will come’ the entire party, and Renly was beginning to tire. He didn’t say anything, though, figuring eventually Caron would give up and admit defeat.

His mates had a bizarre notion that Renly was unable to find a girl himself, and had set out to find him a bird to shack up with at almost every social engagement they attended together. It was… endearing, in its own way—after all, Renly knew they were just doing it because they cared about if he was having enough sex—but it was also incredibly annoying. Renly didn’t need help finding a girl. The reason he never had a steady girlfriend wasn’t because he was terrible at flirting or asking girls out for a basic coffee date, it was more that he just didn’t care enough to go looking in the first place.

Renly liked to _court_ a woman; make her feel special and really get to know her. The only trouble was, was that he hadn’t met a girl that really made him take a second look. He hadn’t met many girls who made him take a _first_ look. He pretended, of course. It wasn’t like he was doing much to convince his friends that their attempts at setting him up were unwelcome, considering he had always acted as if he was interested in the girls that were shuffled in front of him (and slept with a few, thanks to the effect of alcohol and a need to release before he turned into Stannis, and began balding and grinding his teeth from a lack of sexual pleasure—or pleasure of any sort, for that matter). Still, their efforts weren’t exactly welcome, either, and so it was with great relief that the girl Caron had promised was nowhere to be found.

“Just wait a little longer. I’ll call her,” Caron said.

That made Renly’s warm drunk buzz fizzle a bit, and he straightened up from the wall, trying to distract Caron from his mobile in hopes of staving off the inevitable awkward set-up. He wasn’t up for the whole song-and-dance tonight—he’d just finished his first week of classes and wanted to enjoy the evening. Alone. Or at least not with a girl he was expected to entertain. He just wasn’t interested tonight (or any night, really).

“You know…” he began, turning to face Bryce so his voice would carry over the music, “if she hasn’t shown up by now, she’s probably busy or something. I’ll keep an eye out for her on campus if you like.” He wouldn’t. He didn’t even know what she looked like. There was a vague description of her—that she was female, had brown hair, and smiled. Very descriptive and credible. Especially from Caron who already had quite a few lagers.

Bryce seemed pleased enough with his suggestion and nodded before stuffing his mobile away in his back pocket with a certain finality to it all. It made Renly feel better, at least, and the another glass of beer suddenly seemed like a very good idea. Untangling himself from Bryce who had decided to apologize with a heavy hug, he ventured through the crowd of people, most whom he knew but a few unfamiliar faces pocketed throughout, and escaped into the blessedly less populated hallway where he didn’t have to nudge people out of the way with his broad shoulders.

He had agreed to attend a party put on by some third years who felt like they needed to ‘welcome’ the first-years to the campus, and had just the perfect amount of alcohol in him where he didn’t regret it—yet. There was still time to drink far too much, or get into a situation he shouldn’t have gotten into because, as Brienne had stated numerous times, he was ‘above that’. Renly was always careful with alcohol given his brother’s propensity to have far too much of it, but that did not mean he wasn’t going to indulge now and again.

Shouldering his way into the communal kitchen at the end of the hallway, he made his way to the fridge and opened it, pleased to see it was mostly stocked with a variety of beers and coolers. Snagging the closest bottle of ale he could find, he shut the door with a satisfying clatter of glass bottles, and turned around fully intent on going back to Caron to see if he’d begun to encroach on other people’s personal space, when something caught his eye.

Or rather _someone_.

Someone with very curly hair that turned Renly into an infant staring at the rotating planets above his crib.

The Tyrell boy was standing in the middle of the kitchen, the overhead light seemingly acting as a spot-light as it shone down on top of him, making him glow like some firebug. Or something else that glowed—Renly was a bit too distracted to come up with a better analogy. He wasn’t the only one, it seemed. There were numerous women who had flocked toward him, all of them watching him with a certain glint in their eye. Renly couldn’t blame them. Loras looked and acted like the type of person who would attract admirers of all sorts. It was probably the curls.

Loras ran his hand through them then, making them shake and slide together.

Yes, it was definitely the curls. And that smile.

That smile that was directed at him.

Loras had spotted him and left the circle he’d made to come and speak to him.

Oh bugger.

Renly was suddenly very hot and more sober than he wanted to be. He felt uncomfortable as Loras approached—the same uncomfortable he’d had in the coffee shop, where his chest felt too tight and his skin too hot. He felt like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t.

He felt a bit shameful.

He didn’t have time to think about that as Loras had managed to get through the crush of people and was standing in front of him, smiling brightly and looking a bit tipsy himself. It was only then when they were both standing that Renly realised he was taller than Loras.

“Hello, Loras,” he said, acting casual despite the uncomfortable itch that wouldn’t go away. Then, for some bizarre reason, a need to appear less eager rose up in him, and he added, “Your name is Loras, right?”

Loras’ face fell a bit then, and suddenly Renly wished to go back and correct what he’d just said. He sounded like Robert at a political gala—forgetting names and fumbling around like a walking and talking PR disaster, rather than the shrewd politician he used to be. He either needed to be drunker, or sober up entirely. He was at that awkward stage where he was drunk enough he made daft mistakes, but not so drunk where he wouldn’t remember them.

“Yeah, it’s Loras. Glad you remembered.”

He didn’t seem so glad. While normally he would have just continued on without making any real effort to reverse what he’d said, he felt sick just thinking about leaving Loras thinking he hadn’t remembered him. “Did you end up finding a coffee shop you like?” he asked, drawing from their first meeting in hopes of indicating to Loras he really hadn’t forgotten him.

It worked. Loras broke out into that beautiful smile again, nodding his head and causing his curls to bounce. “Yeah, some of my mates and I went back to that place you were at later in the day. It was pretty good. I mean, nothing spectacular, but the lines were shorter and I add a lot sugar and cream in it anyways, so it’s not like I need a brilliant roast.”

So Loras liked sweet coffee. That made Renly smile. “I’m glad it worked out for you. How was your first week of—” He was shouldered to the side mid-sentence, and almost fell right into Loras. Pressing up against Loras, he smiled tightly as a gaggle of people pushed past to get to the fridge. “Maybe we should talk elsewhere?”

“Yeah, alright.” Loras was close enough Renly could smell the beer on his breath. It wasn’t unpleasant in the slightest, despite finding it repulsive on anyone else. He didn’t want to think too hard about how Loras was proving to be the least repulsive person he’d ever met, however—not in the middle of a party where self-reflection was on the list of things not to do, right along with having sex on the host’s bed and starting a fight on the front lawn.

But before he could leave Loras pushed past him and went to the fridge, pulling out a few more bottles of beer, grasping the necks with his longer fingers before meeting up with Renly near the door. “I thought we might want some more drinks later on,” he explained, grinning like a few more might be one too many. But Renly wasn’t here to tell the first-year student how much alcohol he should take in—especially not when he was thinking about getting bloody shite-faced so he wouldn’t have to think about why he was so nervous about going to sit with Loras just to chat.

They made their way down a set of stairs and ended up sitting at the base, the sound of the music from the floor above them mixing with the murmured conversation below, making them feel as if they were still a part of the party, but without the shouting over the music and the excessive amount of drunken public displays of affection.

“So, how was your first week of class?” Renly asked again as soon as they were seated on the steps.

“It was alright. I mean, not what I expected, but alright,” Loras replied over the lip of his bottle. Renly watched as he took a long, slow drink, eyes heavy-lidded as he leaned against the wall, content at the moment.

“What did you expect?”

“I don’t know… I mean, I just came out of year twelve where they push massive amounts of work on you every day. Here it’s so much more… relaxed. They always tell you how much harder university is, but so far it’s been a walk in the park.”

“Just wait for finals,” Renly winked, “You’ll be singing a different tune. I mean, it’s not so bad if you keep up with your work, but if you’re like most people here you’re going to wait until the last minute to do everything.”

“Yeah, I heard that, too.” Loras shrugged, and dangled his bottle between his knees. Renly looked down at his legs, and was once again struck by how lanky he was.

“You have very long legs,” he said, unable to stop himself from having it come out. Loras turned to look at him, smiling sweetly, which in turn made Renly smile back.

“Thanks?”

“It’s a good thing. I mean, at least you’re not stumpy.”

Good Christ. Stumpy? Really?

Loras didn’t seem at all put off by his comment—rather the opposite. Tilting his head back he laughed, rich and hearty with the barest hint of a snort at the beginning.

“I guess there is that,” he said once he’d stopped laughing. Calming, he sighed and took another long drink, distracting Renly as he watched his throat bob. “You’ve got long legs, too,” he added after.

Renly shrugged. “My family’s genetics is comprised of broad chests, long legs, and hair.”

“Hair?”

“We’ve got a lot of it.”

Loras pulled a face, and suddenly Renly felt very self-conscious of his stubble and chest hair. “What’s that face for?”

“Never been a fan of body hair. You know how you see those blokes walking around who just have like, piles of the stuff coming out the top of their shirt? You just know they’ve got back hair going on and…” Loras shuddered then, but there was a teasing smile on his lips, and a hint of humour in his big, dark hazel eyes.

“I don’t have back hair, thank God. No I just… I’ve got hair. I keep it trimmed, though.” He had no idea why he was defending his hair to Loras—it wasn’t as if he was ever going to see it. But still, he had a sense of pride about what he thought was a rather manly amount of hair on his chest. “You’re probably just jealous because you can’t grow any.” Loras was wearing a rather low v-neck t-shirt, that left nothing to the imagination about how much hair was sporting.

But it was daft to make such a remark about Loras after barely knowing the boy, and he was about to change the subject when Loras made a mock growl of disapproval that made Renly feel very warm and… tingly. Tingly all over. Tingly in a very good way.

“Some men like the sleek swimmer look, I’ll have you know.”

Renly was about to retort when he realised Loras had said ‘men’—not women. In fact, Loras had been talking exclusively about men and what was attractive on men.

“Are you gay?” he asked suddenly, and then immediately back-peddled. “Shite, sorry, that was a stupid thing to ask. I’m sorry—you don’t have to answer.”

Loras just seemed amused, and that ever-present smile on his lips softened slightly. “It’s fine, don’t apologize. But yeah, I’m gay. Is that… I mean, I thought you were…”

“No, it’s fine.” He didn’t let Loras finish up what he ‘thought’. He wanted to make it clear to Loras he wasn’t upset. In fact, he felt a little lighter hearing it, like he was waiting for approval and had been given it.

But he wasn’t interested. He liked girls and… girls.

But Loras made him feel different than any girl had ever made him feel, and he’d only known the lad for an hour in total.

He needed another drink.

Downing the last of his ale, he picked up the second bottle Loras had been smart enough to grab, and twisted the cap off casually, ignoring Loras’ gaze on him as he did so.

“So what are you taking?” he asked quickly.

“Open studies,” Loras said slowly, as if waiting for Renly to bolt. He’d made him uncomfortable. Renly had never meant to make Loras uncomfortable. He usually wasn’t this bad at simple communication—in fact, he’d always been remarkable good at it. Saying all the right things, leading up with all the right questions, flashing his brilliant smile—this was what he was good at.

But not around Loras.

“Not sure what you want to do?” he asked.

“Nah. I mean, I wanted to keep doing footy, but my gran wanted me to get a higher education. Said my brain would last longer than my knees…”

“You played football?”

“Yeah, I did it seriously for years. My dad made me join a shit load of sporting teams when I was a kid. I did football, fencing, horse-jumping, swimming and tennis. But football was my favourite.”

Loras smiled like someone reminiscing about an old lover.

“So I take it this whole university thing isn’t really what you want?”

Loras shrugged. “I’ll warm up to it. Can’t say I was too happy a few days ago, but then I met someone at a coffee shop who made things a bit better.” Loras turned then, a hesitant, hopeful little smile on his lips.

Renly took another long sip of his beer to try and quell his stomach that had just gone topsy-turvy on him.

XXX  


“You live in a dorm?”

Loras turned around on the steps that led up to the front doors, his arms shooting outright to stabilize himself as he swayed on the top step. “Yes?”

“Why do you live at a dorm? You’re a Tyrell. I never thought a Tyrell would subject themselves to such… mediocrity.” Renly had offered to walk Loras back to his place, the two tiring of the steady thrum of music and the stench of increasing desperation. Renly had reached his limit that night, pleasantly buzzed to the point where he would remember the night but with it with a certain hazy warmth to it. He’d spent the rest of the party on the steps between floors with Loras, talking about all sorts of things. Renly found himself following after Loras like some lost, eager little pup—a staunch contrast to how he usually spent his parties, with women following _him_ around like lost pups. But he couldn’t help it; Loras was different and… new. And shiny.

“And a Baratheon would?”

That made Renly pause. When had he told Loras he was a Baratheon? He never brought that up unless he absolutely had to. He didn’t like to be reminded. He didn’t want to taint his evening with Loras with thoughts of his brothers. Loras was… special—removed from his family name. Or so he thought. “I never mentioned to you I was a Baratheon,” he said, walking up the steps to stand in front of Loras as he hovered near the door, making no move to enter.

“I’m not a fool, Renly. I’m a Tyrell—we attend all the events your family go to. I’ve seen you round a few times,” Loras admitted. His keys to his dorm were in his hands, but he was acting like he was waiting for Renly to gain him entrance. He’d watched how much Loras had drank all night, keeping a somewhat protective eye on him, and didn’t think he was drunk enough to forget he had keys, but stranger things had happened. Taking them from him, Renly guided Loras inside, trying not to feel up Loras’ arm too much. He was wiry. And lanky. And warm.

“So you watched me at these parties?” he asked, following Loras’ toward the steps to his floor, all the while still holding on to his arm.

Loras hummed against his ear, sending warmth to his gut that immediately mingled with the alcohol, successfully making it hard to _think_.

“You’re sort of hard to miss.”

“And why is that?”

“I don’t think you need me telling you how… impressive you are,” Loras practically purred out. Renly stumbled slightly, almost running into Loras as he stopped in front of his dorm room. Leaning back against the door, Loras smiled at Renly, head cocked to the side whilst Renly tried to regain some semblance of balance.

“Impressive?”

Loras shrugged, and Renly suddenly wanted to press him for more—wanting to know how he was impressive, and why _Loras_ thought he was. But Loras just stood against the door and was making no move to enter nor any to get closer to Renly. He just stood, staring at him with those big, intense eyes. Renly didn’t know what he was doing until he was leaning in to Loras, his heart beating its way through his chest as he neared.

“Tell me…” he said. Pleaded, almost.

Loras wasn’t shying away from Renly, and Renly could feel his heat so close. So gloriously close. “You’re tall and strong… built like some sort of god. And your smile—you have no idea how much I wanted to see you smile at me at those parties. Just to be near you looked like an honour.”

All Renly heard was the buzz of Loras’ voice, deep and a bit raspy, so close to his lips. All Renly saw was the way his lips formed the words, so soft looking… so… tempting. All Renly felt was _Loras_.

Loras smelled of alcohol and a spicy soap that had been worn all day and had mixed with the scent of his skin, a heady combination that clouded Renly. Leaning in further, he braced his hands against the door on either side of Loras’ shoulders, boxing him in. Loras didn’t shrink back from the stance, and instead straightened up, reminding Renly of his height and his strength. This wasn’t like any of the girls Renly had been with, their smaller frames and their rosy perfumes. No, there was no denying Loras’ masculinity, and for some reason that only fueled Renly’s need to claim him—to push further in and do something about the gnawing warmth and tingling in his gut.

The alcohol in him was making him act like he wouldn’t normally—less inhibited and worried by past constraints he’d put himself under when sober and fearful. His body was screaming out at him to act whilst all thoughts of doubt left completely, or perhaps were numbed by his desires so much he forgot they even existed in the first place. He’d never done this with another man, and he knew there were reasons why but he just didn’t care anymore. He didn’t give a bloody damn about anything but the scent and the sight and the taste of the beautiful boy before him.

Surging forward, Renly pressed his lips against Loras’ full ones, expecting softness and hesitation but receiving nothing back but a returned passion and pressure. Loras’ hands reached up and tangled in Renly’s hair almost immediately, lips parting and tongue darting out to slip along the seam of Renly’s own. Gasping as his hair was tugged out of its gelled hold, Renly lost the battle for dominance before it had even begun, Loras taking control. Slipping his arms in between Loras and the door, he wrapped them around his waist, broad palms fanning out the expanse of Loras’ back, feeling the cotton softness and knowing what rested beneath—smooth, delicious skin.

He was completely consumed by Loras, all semblance of coherent thought gone as his tongue was sucked on and his hips pressed up against. He could feel Loras’ length pressing against his own, but it only caused him to want more—feel more and take more. Breaking away slightly, he bit Loras’ bottom lip clumsily, his nerves and the alcohol making him less careful than he normally would have been. Loras didn’t seem to mind the bite, and went in for another kiss, messy and a bit frantic but no less satisfying.

Renly didn’t remember how they got into the dorm, and he certainly didn’t remember taking his shirt off, but next thing he knew he was on the bed with Loras beneath him, panting and already sweaty, curls splayed out on the pillows, pupils blown out as his eyes roamed over his chest. It seemed the chest hair wasn’t as bad as Loras thought it was, if the way he was currently petting Renly had anything to say for it.

He hadn’t expected for it to progress this far, and as they lay on the bed, Renly’s hands digging into the mattress and his own breathing drowning out most other sounds, he wondered if this was what he really wanted. A little voice in the back of his head told him to slow down—take things easy and maybe wait till the morning. But the louder voice—the control, overbearing one that was making his blood scream—told him to do it; go as far as they both wanted and needed. Toss all inhibits to the side and just feed on one another.

He listened to the louder voice.

Pushing down against Loras, Renly kissed him, hands roaming down his sides, feeling the compact muscles twitch and flex. His skin was smooth and warm like velvet, and he found himself enamoured with the juxtaposition of softness and hardness all rolled into one. Women were never like this—hard and stream lined in places, with such raw power. Renly had convinced himself long ago that he wasn’t attracted to the male form, but this was proving him wrong. So bloody wrong. He wanted to experience all of Loras.

Loras was working on his belt whilst Renly trailed kisses along his jaw and down his neck, nuzzling away his curls and breathing in his musk. He heard the click of the belt and the pull of the zipper—almost monstrously loud after hearing nothing but their breathing and the beat of his heart—and Renly fell on to the bed heavily as Loras rolled his hips to the side and pushed. His head swam for a second, the quick movement causing the room to spin, and he felt like vomiting for a moment before his cock was suddenly hit with cold air. Jumping a bit, he stared down his body in the dark, watching Loras through what little light broke through the blinds from the streetlamps outside. He couldn’t see his face, just his shoulders as he tugged Renly’s pants down further, getting no help from Renly who had forgotten how to use his legs.

Giving up when they were just pulled down to mid-thigh, Loras hovered over Renly’s groin.

“Is this alright?” Loras asked, voice rough with need.

Renly nodded and let out a huff that sounded like a ‘yes’ in his head, and immediately his cock was encased in a wet, hot, needy mouth. Crying out as Loras took him into his mouth like he was hungry for him, Renly arched off the bed, his fist flying out to strike the wall he was half leaning against. He couldn’t feel anything beyond the throbbing in his groin and the excruciatingly good feeling of lips and tongue and spit along his head and down his shaft.

Loras wasted no time in bobbing, taking more and more of Renly’s increasing length. Eyes having adjusted to the darkness, Renly ventured another look down his body, and saw Loras’ full lips wrapped around his girth, taking him in completely before lifting up with a satisfying pop.

It was only Loras’ hand wrapped around his balls keeping pressure that kept Renly from coming too soon. Everything inside him was screaming for release, and his stamina had already been significantly dented by the alcohol, but he kept himself in check for completely selfish reasons only. He wanted to see Loras naked before he came. He never wanted to see someone so naked in his life, let alone another bloke. He could only imagine what Loras looked like.

Images of the statue of Antinous swirled in his head, and Renly huffed out a garbled request for Loras to just stop for a second and come back up. He wasn’t sure he was making any sense, his tongue heavy in his mouth and his limbs limp. Loras did stop, though, and crawled up Renly’s body quickly. Wasting no time, Loras took his pants off in one hurried motion, and Renly was about to get his pants off the rest of the way when Loras climbed back on him and pushed himself hard against Renly.

Loras cried out this time, a throaty moan as their hips began to move together, their cocks rubbing and sliding, Renly’s slick with spit and Loras’ from pre-cum. Never had Renly experienced anything like this, and he fumbled around with his hands, unsure of where to put them as new sensations whipped around him, flicking against his skin and pooling in his groin. He couldn’t think, could barely breath, and felt like he was going to float away if not for Loras’ weight on top of him. Tangling one hand in his curls, the other slipped down to grasp Loras’ ass, feeling the dip and the swell as he flexed with their movements.

Holding on, he bit his lip hard as their movements became more frantic. Renly was restricted by his pants but that didn’t seem to hinder what mattered, his hips meeting Loras’ well enough. The bed began to squeak, and Loras laughed softly against Renly’s ear.

That just served to send Renly over the edge. Tensing, Renly let go of Loras’ hair and pushed his hands into the mattress, fingers wrapping around the fabric and pulling hard as he came between them. It felt like it had lasted forever, the pleasure digging into his skin, making everything hum and sing and shimmer. He could vaguely feel Loras coming as well, breath hitching and body tensing, hips jerking now and again.

When his orgasm finally ended, Renly relaxed completely on the bed, eyes closed and hand loosely resting on Loras’ ass still. He could feel his own spunk on him, but knew Loras’ was there, too. He’d never been quiet so covered in semen before. He couldn’t decide if he liked it or not.

Loras rolled off of him but didn’t stay on the bed. Cracking open an eye, Renly watched Loras as he went to the desk in the opposite side of the room, and plucked tissues from the box. Renly realised he hadn’t gotten to see Loras naked until now. Returning with the tissues, Loras passed a few to Renly with shaky hands but a steady smile. Taking them, Renly tried to return the smile, but found it hard as the afterglow began to leave and sudden sobriety began to take root.

He suddenly felt very cold. And very, very guilty.

Staring down at his stomach and groin, Renly looked at the mess they’d made. Loras had come on him. Loras had made him come. He’d felt something with Loras—something that wasn’t quite going away even as the alcohol betrayed him to sobriety. He slowly began to clean himself, methodically taking his time as he thought about what he’d done. The hazy cloud in his head that had made him do this—take the jump and fall in with Loras—had begun to leave, and with it came incredibly difficult realities that he most definitely did not want to face.

Not now.

Just a few more hours. It was all he asked.

But he did not receive.

He’d slept with a man. He had slept with a man and enjoyed it. He’d… he’d done what he told himself he would never do when he was a boy and discovered things about himself. He’d shut down those feelings for a reason and deluded himself into believing it was just a phase for a reason. There was a reason he did it. There was always a reason—a really good bloody reason for it.

And he’d fucked it all up.

Quite literally.

How could he ever go back to pretending when he’d done this? Experienced what had to be the most satisfying shag in his short adult life? And it probably wasn’t even that good by most standards. Their kisses tasted like stale beer and their touches were too hard and awkward at times, while their kisses were messy and there were at times too much teeth. They’d only really rutted on the bed with Renly’s pants still half on.

But it was more than he’d felt with any girl he’d been with.

“Are you alright?”

Loras’ voice broke Renly from his tumbling and turning thoughts, and he looked over at Loras who was sitting on the edge of his bed, still naked and looking very much the eighteen year old that he was, his former arrogance completely gone as he waited for a response.

Renly didn’t know what to say to him, at a complete loss. He should have told Loras that he loved every second of it—that if he had the chance he’d do it right next time, without the alcohol and the pants that wouldn’t come off—but the words died on his lips, and the fear that had held him back all his life chocked out a horrid response instead.

“I’m straight.”

It sounded so stupid saying it aloud. He felt like he was a small child who had broken the biscuit jar and tried to pass it off as the dog doing it. He didn’t even believe it as he said it, but he didn’t take it back, not even when Loras looked at him like he’d grown an extra head.

“You’re… straight?”

Renly nodded, then shrugged, before sighing and staring down at his hands. He wanted to leave. He didn’t feel comfortable sitting here on Loras’ bed half naked. He wasn’t supposed to be here. It was a mistake. No, it wasn’t a mistake. Renly wouldn’t think that. It had just been a… slip. “I never… I mean. Blokes never… appealed to me.”

He couldn’t even sound convincing in his own head, let alone speaking it.

“Do you… do you regret it?”

“No.” His head snapped up and he looked at Loras, seeing relief in those big eyes of his. Renly said it before he even had the chance to think over the question, but knew it was the right answer—the truthful one—perhaps the only one of that evening.

Loras nodded then, and broke eye contact to stare at the bare wall across the way. Renly knew he shouldn’t stay there. His presence was only making things worse—for the both of them. He’d been such a dick, leading Loras along like that. A complete and utter twat. Scooting off the bed, he stood and pulled his pants back up the rest of the way. Grabbing his shirt from the floor, he put it on before turning to look down at Loras.

He looked very small.

“I’m going to… go. Are you going to be alright?”

Loras nodded, and that spark of strength he’d seen in him was back, if not still a little dampened by what had occurred. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just tired. It’s late and it’s been a long week. Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize. I should be the one to…”

“Don’t worry about it. We’ve all been there.”

Renly could tell that no, Loras hadn’t been there before. Whatever _there_ was. He seemed just as out of place as he was, if not more so. The kid probably hadn’t even had a drunken one-night stand like this. And probably wouldn’t ever again.

Heading to the door, Renly grabbed the handle and twisted, opening the door a crack. But before he could make it out completely, Loras told him to wait. Standing in the strip of light the hallway offered, Renly watched Loras go to his desk and write something down, before ripping off a strip of paper and approaching him. Passing it to him, Renly looked down at the offered paper, seeing a mobile number on it.

“If you want to talk,” Loras explained. “Just… about anything. If you need to talk you can call me. Or text or… whatever.”

Renly knew ‘anything’ really meant about his extreme case of self-denial.

“Thanks,” he said, and then, because he wanted to and felt he needed to, he squeezed his hand gently one last time before slipping off and down the hallway, shame hunched on his shoulder the entire way.


	3. Eat, Confess, Bond

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors Note: Chapter three is up! Obviously. Because you're reading it and all that. Anyway, we move further on and have Renly and Loras reveal a little bit about themselves to one another. Hope you enjoy, and thanks so much for the feedback :)
> 
> Shout out to Danielle for beta'ing!

It was hard to run away from your troubles when your troubles were sort of a part of you. Renly couldn’t very well run away from his feelings or his thoughts or even his physical desires, because if he did that he’d be effectively nothing, and while the thought of being nothing for just a few hours was tempting, it wasn’t worth the thought that maybe he couldn’t come back from that nothing.

Besides, Renly was not prepared to put himself into a coma just because he was having an existential crisis that was actually an existential crisis and not just nerves brought on by end of term exams. He’d experienced the crunch of exams, and they had nothing on the utter gut twisting, brain melting, butterfly-tummy feelings he’d been having ever since that night with Loras.

Things would have been a lot easier if he could just take off—flunk out of semester in order to go on a life changing backpacking trip that included riding elephants in India and learning the meaning of his life from a wise old woman in the summer sun outside a Tuscan cottage. But that would require having his wallet to buy that ticket to the rest of his life.

Trouble was: Renly had left his wallet at Loras’ place.

At some point between the blowjob and the rutting, his wallet and been pushed from his pants and lost amongst the blankets on Loras’ bed, hidden from view and creating a predicament for Renly. He had planned on running as far away from what had happened that night as he possibly could, but it was almost impossible without his wallet.

Not to mention, try as he might to dispel thoughts of that night, Renly desperately wanted to see Loras again. If only for a few minutes to maybe convince himself that Loras really wasn’t that attractive, and he really did not smell and taste and feel as wonderful as he had that night. Renly could be okay if he could blame it all on the alcohol, and go back to his fake-heterosexual lifestyle in order to avoid being shamed and segregated from a family he was finding less and less reason to actually be a part of.

But being a Baratheon was better than nothing.

Eventually, his need for money, an ID and a campus card became too much, and Renly texted Loras, hoping to meet up with him outside the bookstore. Renly’s plan was to meet him, get his wallet, stare at his face and pick out all of its imperfections, and leave and go work on that Eat, Pray, Love plan he’d concocted in the middle of the night as he lay awake for the sixth day in a row thinking about Loras’ weight on top of him and how bloody right it felt.

Leaning against the wall near the bookshop, Renly fiddled with his phone and tried to look busy, scanning over top his phone every once in a while, excited but also dreading seeing Loras come around the corner or down the stairs. It was a Saturday and therefore there was very little traffic. He’d know Loras as soon as he saw him, and there would be no getting lost in the crowd after that.

It didn’t take long for a pair of lanky legs to come in to view down the stairs, a shoelace undone and the cuffs of his skinny jeans rolled up a bit. Shoving his phone away, he smiled tightly as the rest of Loras appeared in front of him. He was wearing another v-neck shirt that was almost obscene with how much skin it showed, and Renly was caught between telling him to cover up more because it was highly distracting, or asking him to just rip his shirt off and shag him against the wall.

Both thoughts were counter-productive to Renly’s trip down the river denial. But it was hard to cover up his feelings for other men when Loras was just standing there doing nothing and yet driving Renly mad with need.

“Hey.” Loras spoke first, and Renly could hear the hesitation in his voice even with that one syllable.

“Hey. How are you?” he asked, hands stuffed firmly in his pockets.

Loras shrugged. “Bit tired, to be honest. Been a long week and…” He shrugged again. “I brought your wallet, like you asked.” Pulling it out from his back pocket, he breached the gap between them and held it out to Renly, offering it to him with a returned tight smile.

Renly took it quickly, avoiding touching Loras. If he touched him he’d be done for. “Thanks. Sorry I left it at your place—I was drunk and I was… a bit…”

“Distracted?”

Renly nodded and laughed nervously. He sounded like a teenage boy in his head.

“So… did you want to talk? I mean, not about the other night if you don’t want. It’s just… I dunno… we could go get a bite to eat? I heard good things about a fish and chips shop just a few blocks from campus we could go to.”

Now Renly felt bad. He had told himself this was just a meeting to get his wallet, and he thought he had made it clear to Loras he hadn’t contacted him to chat like he’d suggested they do the last time he’d seen him. Renly did not want to do any self-reflection and take a look at his actions and his views, because Renly was a coward and comfortable in that fact. But Loras had thought this was something more, and Renly was torn between running away to India and agreeing to some food.

“Sure.”

Later Renly would chalk it up to his subconscious knowing that he needed this—that he needed to talk things through to someone who would understand, if just a little bit. But in that moment, he was swearing up a storm, feeling betrayed by his mouth and his brain and pretty much every part of him that had said ‘sure’.

They walked to the shop in relative silence, Renly staring down at the sidewalk, trying not to gravitate toward Loras’ warmth as they walked side by side. He could tell Loras was feeling just as awkward as he was, but was attempting to not show it by blowing bubbles in his gum, the casual pop of the bubble punctuating the silence between them. When they arrived, Loras grabbed some seats over in the corner while Renly ordered for them, having offered to pay—the only conversation they had the entire way. Standing at the counter waiting for the food, Renly fiddled with his phone, staring at the menu on the wall, reading how much the iced tea was over and over again whilst internally debating with himself on whether or not he wanted to confess all his issues in a fish and chips shop that smelled of vinegar and deep fried fish.

He hadn’t decided by the time their orders were up, and it was with great confusion he slipped in the seat across from Loras and passed him his food. They unwrapped in silence, and took their first few bites in silence, before Loras finally spoke.

“It’s pretty good, but it still tastes a bit like my gum.”

“What type of gum was it?”

“Watermelon.”

For a second Renly imagined what it would have been like to kiss Loras when he tasted of fake watermelon. Thinking back on their night together (as if it was a chore for Renly to remember), Renly began to realise Loras was very experienced, especially for his age. Without thinking, he began to talk, mentally scolding himself even as the question came out.

“How long have you known you were gay?”

Loras paused, a chip half way to his mouth. For a second Renly thought maybe he wouldn’t answer, but then Loras was smiling—a true, warm smile—and Renly felt like he could breathe again. “Since forever, I suppose. Just one day when I was a kid I realised I really wanted to hold my friend’s hand who just so happened to be a boy. From there on I guess I just knew I liked boys more than girls.”

He said it so casually—like it was the easiest thing in the world to accept. Renly wished it were that easy for him.

“Your parents—did they accept it?”

Loras nodded. “Yeah, they were really supportive. I think they always sort of knew, you know? When I officially came out they weren’t surprised at all. Just gave me a kiss and an embarrassing pep-talk about how they’d always love me.”

“They accepted you? Just like that?” Renly was having a hard time imagining a family that just accepted someone with open arms like that.

Loras, on the other hand, seemed confused that Renly was confused. “Why wouldn’t they? They’re my family and they love me no matter—” He stopped then, and his eyes went wide for a moment before he tried to look casual once more. “Your family doesn’t accept you, do they? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to act so off-the-cuff about it—it’s just sometimes I forget that not everyone is as lucky as I am.”

Renly waved him off lazily, even if his insides were screaming at him to throw up the bit of fish he’d eaten in order to stop feeling like absolute shit. “It’s fine,” he mumbled, “my family isn’t like a lot of other families out there, unfortunately. We’re not so much loving and accepting as we are willfully ignorant and bitter. Guess that’s what happens when you’re raised by two emotionally stunted brothers after your parents died.”

Loras didn’t say anything, and for some reason that made Renly feel more comfortable. Usually whenever he let something slip about his family he’d be met with a sympathetic gaze and a half-arsed attempt at saying something comforting, like ‘I’m so sorry’ or ‘That must be terrible’. It wouldn’t be half as terrible if they didn’t make him out to be bloody Tiny Tim from a Christmas Carol. But Loras didn’t do that. Loras just nodded and accepted it—didn’t pry him for more information nor make him feel like he was being pitied.

It was a blessed relief, which was perhaps why Renly felt like maybe he could talk to Loras about other things and not be judged nor shoved into an after-school special if he said these things.

“When did you know?” Loras asked after he’d eaten a few more chips. His lips were slightly oily, and Renly admired them for a moment until he realised he’d been asked a question.

“Know what?”

“That you were gay?”

Oh…

Renly’s deeply ingrained instincts kicked in at that moment and instead of finally—after years of lying to everyone around him including himself—coming clean and admitting it, he lied. Because lying was easier. “I told you I wasn’t gay.”

“Yeah, you did,” Loras said. He was staring at Renly over the edge of his newspaper wrapping, patiently waiting for Renly to go on. “That doesn’t mean you are,” he continued, when Renly made it clear he wasn’t going to speak.

Renly tore his gaze away from Loras’ and stared down at his food which had turned into a pile of mangled fish parts. He could eat an entire battered and fried fish in seconds most days, but not when he was sitting in front of a young man who knew him better than his friends since childhood did. It would have been creepy had it not been comforting. Loras knew and Loras actually cared, and Loras seemed like the least likely of people to judge him for what he was hiding inside.

It could be easy to tell him—Renly could work through the walls he’d built up inside himself and admit to Loras and to himself what he’d been wrestling with for so long. After all, Loras had had his prick in his mouth—it wasn’t like there was much to hide from him anymore. But hiding had become a habit, a comfortable if not constricting and suffocating habit, one he’d been used to since he was seven years old and realised he wanted to run off with Aladdin and not Jasmine.

He had forced himself into a heterosexual lifestyle because, at the time, it was better than being disowned. But the older Renly got the less he believed in his reasons. It had become less about not being accepted by his brothers and more him afraid of not being accepted by the greater world. He grew up seeing how most people treated homosexuals, listened in to conversations that were crass and uninhibited by social stigmas, and even spoken up a few times when he felt pressured to.

It was a habit, plain and simple, and to break away and face who he was, and be comfortable with who he really was, was bloody terrifying.

If only he hadn’t met Loras, gotten smashed, and then given into a desire that was quickly becoming a craving, then he’d be alright. He could continue living a lie without the pain of knowing how much of a lie it was. But now that he knew—now that he’d experienced what he’d truly been longing for—it was so much harder to go back.

He had no idea what to do.

“Can we talk about this after we eat?” he asked quietly.

Loras’ face softened and he nodded quickly, pretty curls bouncing away. “Yeah, of course.” He seemed relieved.

They ate quickly, Loras actually finishing his meal off with a loud burp whilst Renly just sort of shoved his food around before giving up, his guts twisted from what he was about to do. Even if it was just admitting it to one person, just voicing it aloud was a huge step, one he hadn’t even taken with himself in the bathroom when he was all alone. Cleaning up their wrappings, they stepped outside together and wandered over in the direction of Loras’ dorm without thinking much of it. Renly was too lost in his own head to really direct them anywhere, and was grateful that Loras managed to understand that he wanted a private space to speak.

Entering Loras’ place during the day and sober was a different, to say the least. The room was still only half unpacked, boxes filled with clothes shoved in the corner with a baby blue jumper hanging half out like some sea-sick cloud. The walls were bare save for a calendar on the wall that had a football player on it that Renly didn’t know the name of. The only space that looked lived in was his bed. Pressed up against the wall, the covers were left in disarray, Loras obviously not one for making his bed in the morning.

As if Loras could read Renly’s mind he hurried forward and pushed his blankets out to cover the mattress. “Sorry, I grew up with a maid and I’m a bit lost when it comes to cleaning up after myself.” He turned around and scratched the back of his head, everything about it sheepish and completely endearing. It was almost enough to distract Renly from what he was really here for, and he smiled despite the tension in his gut telling him that his stomach might make a break for it very soon.

“It’s fine. I had a nanny who cleaned up after me, but when I got older she left and I figured out quickly my brothers weren’t going to bother helping me with laundry.” He didn’t feel like sitting on the bed—the place where everything started—and instead grabbed the chair by Loras’ desk. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees, breathing in deeply. Loras crawled up on to his bed and rested his back against the wall, mussing up the blankets he’d just attempted to sort out.

He didn’t know where to start, and quite frankly was prepared to just sit in silence for as long as it took to think of something. But Loras was staring across at him, looking at him like he expected some sort of answer, and considering Renly had shagged him and left him with all of his baggage, he owed him at least a bit of an explanation as to his behaviour.

“I blame my brothers for everything,” he said, sitting back in his chair. He meant for it to come out casual, but the weight of his voice and everything those few words represented, prevented such a tone.

“What did they do?”

Renly snorted and ran a hand through his hair. Turning, he stared out the window, a bitter smile on his lips. “Nothing—that’s the issue. They did absolutely nothing for me for my entire life. They were young when my parents died and it wasn’t like they could raise me. I was just a baby—still shitting in my nappies and burping up milk. I don’t know about you, but I would be a shite parent at thirteen. But I still blame them…”

“Is that how old your brothers were?” Renly could see Loras out of the corner of his eye, staring at him.

“One of them—Robert. My brother Stannis was twelve, which is even worse.” The sun from outside was too cheery and bright, and Renly turned from it to look back at Loras. “But they were—I mean they _are_ —the only family I’ve got. I wish I could tell them to go bugger themselves, but I can’t. They’re all I’ve got.”

“And you’re worried they won’t accept you?”

Renly swallowed, his throat suddenly feeling sore. He felt very exposed under Loras’ gaze—like an ant under a magnify glass. But he didn’t feel unsafe. “How did you know?” he asked after a time.

“Wasn’t hard to guess, really. You gave me enough clues today I just…” he locked his fingers together, “put the pieces together.”

“You’re too perceptive for your own good,” Renly mumbled. It helped, though, to talk to someone who seemed to have it figured out better than he did.

“Blame my sister and my Gran. They were always telling me about the importance of ‘reading people’ and really listening to what they have to say. Half the time I can’t be bothered, but with certain people I pay closer attention than I normally would…”

He let it hang in the air, but Renly knew exactly what he meant. Loras figured Renly was worth a second look. He sort of figured that by the way Loras shoved his tongue down his throat, but it was nice to be reminded that Loras actually seemed to like him and didn’t just want him for a quick shag.

“When I started figuring things out as a kid, I sort of shut it off, you know?” Loras nodded and Renly figured it okay to continue. It was getting easier. “I didn’t want to deal with it or think about it, so I just stopped. I pretended I was like everyone else and just… went through the motions without ever really feeling anything.”

“Have you slept with girls before?” The way Loras asked it made him sound like a curious if not slightly disgusted teenage boy. It made Renly laugh.

“Yeah, wasn’t much fun, though. I just sat back and thought of the English Countryside, as the saying goes.”

“Then why do it? I mean, if you aren’t happy and you don’t enjoy it, why do it?”

“It’s not that simple, Loras,” Renly said, getting a bit frustrated with how simple Loras was trying to make all of this.

“It can be,” Loras said quickly.

“Right, yeah, and how can it be that simple? I can’t just accept it as easily as you did. You’ve obviously had a good time of it all, having a loving support system. It’s been ‘simple’ for you, but it isn’t ‘simple’ for everyone.” Renly usually didn’t lash out like that, but he usually didn’t talk about these things with anyone. Loras seemed to be a lightning rod for awkward confessions and pent-up outbursts and passions.

It seemed, however, that Loras did not appreciate being said rod.

Loras sat up straighter on his bed, eyes narrowing as he stared across at Renly, and Renly felt like he was being pinned down with that gaze alone. “You think this is easy on anyone? Coming out as being gay? Just because my parents accepted me doesn’t mean that I didn’t go through everything you’re going through now. The doubt, the fear, the constant pressure from society telling you to conform when you knew inside that you were different—I went through all of it too, and sometimes I still go through it. Just because I told my parents doesn’t mean I didn’t go through what you’re going through right now.”

Renly was rarely at a loss for words, but he was now. His tongue felt fat in his mouth, shame creeping into him, causing his cheeks to grow warm. He hadn’t meant to make it sound like he was special, and whilst a part of him knew their circumstances were different and it was harder for him in many respects, he hadn’t meant to call Loras’ own struggles into question. Of course it wasn’t easy—things were rarely ever easy when it came to these sorts of matters—but Renly hadn’t thought about that.

He never really thought much outside of himself and his own issues, despite being thought of as a likable, friendly bloke who could bond with most anyone. He listened, but he never really absorbed—never thought outside his own box of self-pity and resentment toward his home life.

Loras seemed to have taken Renly’s silence as a bad thing, however, and before he could apologize for having his head up his ass, Loras continued, this time calmer but significantly more downtrodden. He looked a bit like a limp dandelion.

“I’ve never done this before, Renly. I’ve never slept with a bloke after only meeting him a few hours beforehand. I’ve got no idea what I’m doing, but all I know is that I really, _really_ like you, and it isn’t easy for me to listen to you say all these things and not have any answers for you. I want to… I dunno, start over with maybe a date and a chance to talk when we’re not half way into our fourth lager. I just feel so muddled and I’m worried that you’re going to just leave because you don’t want to admit to anything, and I’m going to be left pining over a closeted gay bloke who thinks I’m a spoiled ponce who has it all.”

The shame just kept coming. Sighing, Renly ran a hand through his hair, wanting to tear it out at the roots but settling for a gentle tug that brought him back into the room.

“I’m sorry,” he said. Loras straightened a little, looking less like a limp dandelion and more like the Roman statue he’d met at the coffee shop. “I… I was only thinking of myself. It was never my intention to get you caught in this.”

“Yeah, I can tell.” Loras smiled then, and suddenly Renly felt as if their little argument has never happened. Renly was beginning to realise he never felt pressured around Loras. He’d already shown who he really was to him and he therefore felt relaxed and at ease with him. He didn’t have to put on the mask he’d been wearing all his life—he could smile and laugh and have monumental breakdowns in front of Loras and it was alright. And Loras seemed to feel the same way, if his little rant was anything to go by.

“I shouldn’t have gotten so angry. You’re having trouble and I made it about me more than you…” Loras continued. It wasn’t an apology, but Renly understood what he meant.

“I needed it, though. Nice gentle smack upside the head would have helped, too,” Renly replied.

There was silence once more before, “So… about your brothers… what assholes, huh?”

Renly laughed then, completely uninhibited, toss your head back and let it all out laugh. The tension just slipped off of him like a heavy cloak that had been weighing him down, and he started to feel a lot less like Tiny Tim locked in a closet, and more like Renly Baratheon—confident soon to be Political Science Graduate who knew what he wanted and how to get it.

When he’d stopped laughing, Renly started to really feel the weight of the day. He was tired, his emotions having made him feel like he was pulled inside out before dumped on his head, and all he wanted to do was take a nice long nap and forget about everything for just a moment. He felt raw and exposed, and yet still safe so long as that exposure was with Loras.

Standing, he sighed and rubbed a hand over his eyes. Loras stood as well, and walked the very short distance to the door with Renly, his hands stuffed in his back pockets, cheeks puffed out in a held breath.

“Thanks for talking with me today. I said too much and yet not enough, but I feel better.” He was finding it hard to say goodbye after what had been said between them, but he felt he should take off—if nothing more than to give Loras a bit of a breather. It was definitely a stark contrast from the morning, however, when Renly was still dead-set on traveling to India after picking apart every flaw he could find on Loras’ perfect face. Instead of running away he felt himself wandering closer, wanting to see more of Loras and feeling comfortable in that want.

“Can I see you again? Come and chat and maybe take you out?” he asked, deciding not to use the word date. Not yet.

Loras brightened up, breaking out into a huge grin that reminded Renly vaguely of a shark. A very attractive, curly haired shark. “I’d love that. You’ve got my number so text or call me whenever you like.”

“Right, I will.” Nodding, Renly reached out to pat Loras’ arm, but knew that wasn’t enough to convey what he felt toward Loras. Instead he pulled him in for a hug, the hesitation in the action lasting only a second before Loras’ long arms wrapped around his waist, and the press of his nose could be felt against his shoulder. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet—I’m not done with you,” he mumbled, and Renly could feel the cheeky smile against his neck.


	4. Liberation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors Note: Oh ho ho. So things are getting more intense! Hope you're still enjoying the fic and if you stick around for next weeks chapter... let's just say we might get some proper love making between our two love sick boys. 
> 
> Shout out to Danielle for beta'ing! And shout out to all of you who have liked, bookmarked, and commented!

Renly had never felt so free in his entire life.

The last few weeks had gone by in a blur, the usual stresses of university and adulthood nothing but minor inconveniences that cropped up in between his time spent with Loras. Since Renly had begun to open up to Loras he’d had a new perspective on things—that life wasn’t worth living if he was just going to conform to standards he didn’t even want to meet. He felt happy when he was around Loras—happier than he’d ever been before—and his brothers’ approval could not compare.

That wasn’t to say Renly was out and about, waving a rainbow flag and declaring his love of other men; far from it, actually. He still hadn’t actually said those three little words aloud to anyone, including himself, and the time spent with Loras was always chaste, the two just good friends who happened to like each other an awful lot. They hadn’t kissed, nor even held hands, and whenever they went out they never called it a date. Loras seemed more than ready to move things along at a slow pace, taking his time with Renly, seemingly happy with their arrangement if his infectious smile he wore when they were together was anything to go by.

For once in his life, Renly was actually excited to go be with someone, the obligations and stresses of having to keep up appearances all but gone when he was close to Loras.

Who thought a drunken one-night stand could change your life?

“I’m not sure if that looks more like a duck or a dragon.”

Renly opened his eyes and squinted up at the sky, trying to follow Loras’ train of thought but failing. “What?”

“That cloud over there—what does it look like to you?” Pointing upward at a group of clouds, Loras waved his hand about, following the shape of the cloud with his finger. “Duck or dragon?”

Scooting closer to Loras, Renly knocked the sides of their heads together and peered at the formation, trying to see a distinguishable shape from the puffs of white. “I just see clouds,” he mumbled. He could feel Loras’ huff against his cheek.

“You’ve got shite imagination, mate.”

Rolling his eyes, Renly was about to retort when Loras dropped his arm, his hand landing on Renly’s. Hesitantly, Renly experimentally nudged his fingers gently against Loras’, and was pleased to find Loras pressing back, his fingers slipping over his own before they were tangled together.

Renly didn’t say anything and just enjoyed the feel of Loras’ hand in his own and the kiss of the sun on his skin. His hands were larger and rougher than the girls’ hands he’d held, but he found himself enjoying it much more, the strength in Loras’ grip lurking below his gentle touch as he rubbed his thumb over his knuckles.

“What about that one,” Renly asked, regaining some semblance of thought. He pointed up at another cloud formation. “What does that look like to you?”

It was Loras’ turn to move in closer—so close that if Renly turned just a bit he could kiss him.

“Mm… sort of looks like a… train,” Loras said. His voice so close to Renly’s ear that Renly once again found it hard to _think_ let alone breathe, the vibrations and the warmth of Loras’ breath tickling him in a decidedly pleasant way. He could smell the spearmint gum Loras had been chewing earlier. “What do you see?”

If Renly couldn’t come up with something before, he certainly couldn’t come up with anything now. All he could think about was how much he wanted to kiss Loras—feel the press of those pillow soft lips against his own, and taste that spearmint for himself. They were in the middle of campus where anyone could see them, but Renly didn’t care about in that moment. He just wanted to finally feel Loras again, despite the voice in the back of his head once again telling him to slow down.

He’d slowed down enough—he had been going so slow he was almost at a crawl. It was time to speed things up and take what he wanted.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked suddenly.

He kept staring up at the clouds, squinting as the sun crept closer and closer, inch by inch, into his line of sight as he lay on the ground. It seemed to take forever for Loras to react, and Renly had been about to get up and run away for fear of being rejected, when he felt the puff of a laugh and the press of a nose against his cheek.

“Sure.”

Renly turned then, slow and steady in case his heart decided to shimmy up his throat, and lay on his side, the tip of his nose pressed against Loras’. Loras was smiling at him, a small, nervous laugh slipping past that sent little spikes of pleasure along Renly’s limbs before settling in his gut.

“Why are you laughing?” he asked. Despite the confusion, he couldn’t help but join in.

Loras just shrugged and leaned into Renly’s touch as he reached up to brush his curls back, unable to resist the temptation to touch them. Nervous laughter—it was nervous laughter, Renly decided. A good nervous laugh—like the sort you find yourself in when coming to the end of a very long book, the happy ending within your grasp but the road to it still rocky and unsteady.

His gaze flicked down to Loras’ lips, his tongue darting out to wet them. The action only served to make Loras’ lips pinker and wetter and entirely too appealing. Renly had done this before—kissed Loras and tasted him upon his lips—and yet everything felt new and excited and utterly terrifying as he leaned in to once more press his lips against Loras’.

Their first kiss had been messy and heated, neither really taking in what was happening as they rutted on the bed and tried to get that release they desperately needed. But _this_ kiss was completely different. This kiss was like Renly’s very first kiss all over again; the same racing of his heart and the sweating of his palms, and that overwhelming sense of wanting to please your partner and yet enjoy the moment yourself. But there was one key difference between Renly’s first kiss and this kiss with Loras. Because with this kiss, the numbing, sinking realisation that this wasn’t what he wanted _wasn’t present_. The thought that he was doing something wrong wasn’t there. Renly didn’t feel shameful—didn’t feel like he was closing off a part of himself by kissing Loras. Loras felt right against him, like it was always meant to be and everything that had happened before was just preparation for this moment. This achingly perfect moment where Renly could forget about everything but how goddamn happy he felt.

Renly could hear and feel Loras’ breath hitch as soon as their lips touched, like a little spark had been shot into him, and he would have laughed at how cliché it was had he not been so entirely lost in their embrace. Loras’ lips were soft and yet firm, gentle and yet insistent, and Renly forgot all about trying to impress and just went with it, relaxing into the motion and letting his body take control. It took him a moment to remember that this wasn’t actually his first kiss, and he actually knew what he was doing, but he still felt like he was a teen again, positive he wanted this and yet unsure of how to keep it.

He’d intended for the kiss to be chaste and quick but when Renly pulled away he wanted more—craved more. Loras’ eyes were dark, desire swirling around in his gaze as he smiled lazily across at Renly. A few curls slipped into his view, and Renly reached up to brush them away, his fingertips lingering, his skin warm and smooth as his hand wandered from his temple and down his jaw.

Moving in for another kiss he felt Loras open up immediately, and took the chance to slip his tongue inside, tasting the spearmint after having been teased with it all afternoon. Loras rubbed his tongue against Renly’s, a deep throated moan accompanying the action, causing Renly to shiver. Pulling his tongue back, he pressed his lips against Loras’ again, repeating the process and taking his time, the two sharing multiple slow, lazy kisses in the autumn sun. Loras’ free hand had come up to rest on Renly’s forearm, and Renly enjoyed the way Loras grabbed on to him, holding on with a power he’d never felt from any of the girls he’d been with.

Rolling Loras on to his back, Renly pressed himself gently down on top of Loras, loving how he was only met with the press of a hard body beneath his, nothing curvy and soft about him—save for his lips and his skin, and the silken curls that ran through his fingers like liquid gold. They’d been holding hands up until that moment, and when they broke apart Renly felt empty for just a moment, until Loras’ hand cupped his cheek, warming his skin.

This was perfect.

Nothing could ruin this moment. Not even a—

The slap of something hitting the trunk of a tree near them broke Renly from his prayers. Pulling back with a start, he glanced over his shoulder quickly to see a football slowly rolling away from the tree and toward its owner. A young woman came running up after it, a cheeky smile on as she plucked the ball up and tossed Renly a wink.

“That scared the shit out of me,” Loras said, still resting underneath Renly on the grass.

Returning his attention back to Loras, Renly sighed as he looked down at what he’d help to make. Loras’ cheeks were flush and his lips pink and swollen from their kisses, and his hair was becoming frightfully tangled, bits of grass in with the curls. He looked amazing.

Renly just continued to hover above Loras, propped above him with the use of his elbows, eyes flickering all over his face, soaking him in. For a moment he thought he was simply just admiring the view, but he realised he was waiting for something to happen as they lay together. It took him a moment to realise what he was waiting for.

He was waiting for that awful moment when he began to regret what he’d done. It was awfully sad, really, that Renly had come to connect kissing with regret of all things. That he connected _intimacy_ with regret. All the women he’d kissed or been intimate with had, through no fault of their own, left Renly feeling hollow—unfulfilled and more than a little shameful. His first encounter with Loras had resulted in him taking off, and although he said he didn’t regret it, the little nagging feeling that he _ought_ to was still there, working away in his mind, making him think in circles and driving him crazy.

But that familiar train of thought never came as he looked down at Loras. That gut-retching, aching feeling in his chest that made him feel nauseous was nowhere to be seen. Instead he felt… well, he simply felt happy. Like everything was as it should be. That this right here—this thing between he and Loras—it was good. It was what he wanted.

“You alright?”

Loras’ voice broke Renly from his musings, and instead of answering him with words, Renly leaned down for another kiss—sweet and innocent. “I’m more than alright,” he mumbled, rubbing their noses together.

XXX

“These fucking tossers think they can just do that? That was a foul for Christ Sakes!”

Renly cracked an eye open and looked at the TV, blinking back the spots in his eyes as the light burned little tiny holes into his retinas. Yawning, he watched the little white and red blobs run back and forth across the astonishingly green pitch. It looked very much the classic football game to Renly, but apparently there was a lot to yell about if you were Loras.

“What happened?” he asked, nudging Loras gently with his foot.

Loras didn’t answer for a second, all of his attention on the screen before him, and it took another foot nudge to get him to remember there was someone in the room with him. “Number eighty-three got a yellow card for being a wanker earlier in the game, and he did the same bloody thing right now and wasn’t taken off!”

“Well is he any good?” Renly asked, “I mean; does he contribute much to the game?”

“They all contribute to the game, Ren,” Loras said in what was a rather patronizing tone. His level stare wasn’t helping much. “But if you mean does he contribute in a significant way—no. He’s just a cunt.”

“Is your team winning?”

“Yeah.”

“Why bother, then?”

Loras sighed and rolled his eyes. Huffing, he sat back against Renly’s couch. “This is all part of watching football—the yelling and the cheering and the getting emotional over every little thing. It’s what you _do_ when you watch football. I told you all of this before I came over.”

Yes, now Renly remembered the half hour long speech about the glories of football and why it was the best sport ever. He’d made lunch while Loras rambled about it on the mobile, only half paying attention as he waited to hear if Loras was going to come over or not. Eventually Loras agreed, but on the condition that he could watch the game—his favourite team was playing, after all. Renly brought Loras to his room, wanting to keep Loras out of the main living room for fear they would be interrupted by one of his flat mates, and they had spent the last two hours watching telly. Renly pretended to be invested for a whole half-hour before he began to doze off, and had been having little cat-naps on the couch whilst Loras yelled.

It was an oddly cosy arrangement.

“I know, I know…” he said, waving his hand about. Sitting up, he stretched his arms over his head before not-so-subtly dropping his arm down and around Loras’ shoulder, tugging him in close. “And I told you that you can watch your game on the condition you cuddle with me.”

Loras settled beside Renly almost immediately, leaning into his side, sighing happily. Smiling in triumph that he’d managed to calm Loras down from what could have become a one-man football riot in his room, Renly leaned in and pressed a kiss to Loras’ temple, nuzzling his curls away with his nose.

They’d been doing this for a few weeks—sharing casual affection, mostly in the privacy of one of their bedrooms. Renly still wasn’t sure what they were doing—if they were dating or just good friends or what—but he knew that he liked it. He felt safe where they were, with no pressures to make it anything more than what it was. Loras seemed perfectly content to let Renly work through his issues at his own speed, and that only made Renly want to go a little bit faster to show just how much he appreciated what was going on.

But any time they did get any further, Renly would stall—unable to go that extra step with Loras. He wasn’t sure what it was that was stopping him, but Loras had said these sorts of things can’t just be fixed overnight, or even in a few months. Renly had gone so long conditioning himself to believe that this wasn’t what he should want, that it was hard to snap out of his lies and take what he truly desired.

They watched the game for a few more minutes, Loras staying calm underneath Renly’s arm, but eventually Renly’s attention began to wane again, and he found himself playing with Loras’ hair, massaging his scalp and gently tugging at the curls.

“So you used to do this often?” Renly asked, kissing Loras’ temple again.

Loras hummed and leaned into Renly’s touch. “Play footy? Yeah—still do. Not at this level, but I could have gotten there if I’d wanted to.”

“Parents stopped you—I remember. Still angry with them?”

“Bit. Sort of hard though, what with you doing what you’re doing.”

Renly smirked and tilted his head, kissing the corner of Loras’ jaw. He felt Loras’ hand creep on to his thigh, and his breath hitched when Loras started rubbing gently. “Why do you like football so much?” he asked, still massaging the back of Loras’ head, no doubt tangling the curls but caring very little about that.

“I just love the freedom… love to feel my muscles push and strain and carry me further and further. I love the way my lungs burn and how hard my heart beats. Just work my body like a machine—see how far I can push myself.”

Renly realised he let out a rather embarrassing noise as Loras spoke, a soft whimper slipping past to tickle Loras’ ear. Loras didn’t seem to care that it sounded a bit like a deflating balloon, however, and turned to face Renly, his piercing eyes locking on to Renly. “We are still talking about football, yeah?”

Loras’ hand just traveled higher up Renly’s thigh.

“Why do you like rowing?” Loras asked, a brow quirked. His lips were tantalisingly close, and Renly wanted to creep in and steal his reward, but was stopped by Loras pulling away as he leaned forward. “Answer my question.”

God, Loras was such a tease. Although Renly supposed making-out with Loras for hours only to stop just as they were about to shag wasn’t very kind, either. Still, the hypocrisy wasn’t enough to make him stop pouting. “I just like how I get a workout while being mobile—it was the only sport that vaguely interested me.”

“That’s it?”

“Not everyone is as obsessed with sports as you are, darling.”

He hadn’t realised he’d said it until Loras lost his cheeky expression and was just staring at him, eyes wide and lips parted in a soft ‘o’. The affectionate name had just slipped out so naturally—it just felt right. Which was perhaps why he hadn’t realised he’d even said it until Loras turned into a startled rabbit.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it,” Renly said quickly, pulling away just enough to give Loras some room. They hadn’t even called each other boyfriend, and here he was, calling him darling and massaging his head.

But Loras’ startled features were beginning to go back to normal, and the little ‘o’ was spreading out into a lazy smile. “Darling, hm?” he said, quirking a brow. His cheeks were pink, and he looked almost like he was trying not to _giggle_. “Does that mean I get to call you something?”

Renly let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. He thought for a second he’d scared Loras away (why calling him ‘darling’ would scare him away when the baggage Renly had dumped at his feet still hadn’t, Renly would never really know), but Loras actually seemed pleased with the name. It appeared he thought it fit as well.

“If you’d like,” he said, feeling suddenly very giddy. He’d never had the chance to forge a bond with someone that required an affectionate term of endearment. He’d always just been Baratheon with his mates, or Renly with his brothers (usually with an exasperated tone to it).

Loras seemed to ponder it for a moment, tapping his bottom lip in faux concentration, before he leaned in and kissed Renly quickly. “Babe,” he murmured against Renly’s lips.

Babe. Renly liked the sound of that. “Say it again.”

“Babe…” Loras said, voice a bit lower than before. He kissed Renly again.

“One more time?”

“Baby.”

Renly felt like he’d just been dropped in a pillow pit with a bunch of puppies—and yes, he did realise how girly his internal monologue sounded.

“Okay, this is the last time…” said Renly.

Loras opened his mouth to say it again, when there was a flash on the screen and instead of saying ‘babe’, Loras was jumping up and screaming ‘goal’ at the top of his lungs. Renly didn’t even have time to figure out what was happening before the door to his room came flying open, and Royce, Caron and Morrigen came stumbling in like they’d been summoned by some football warlock.

The image of Loras as a warlock in a pointy hat and purple robes was almost too much to handle.

“Are you an Arsenal’s fan?” Morrigen asked loudly.

“Are you bloody kidding me? I’d shag the whole lot of them if I had the chance,” Loras replied.

Renly continued to sit on his couch, watching as his ‘darling’ was grabbed into a group hug that eventually collapsed into a pile of limbs on the floor. They didn’t even know who Loras was, but apparently he was now their new best friend.

XXX

“So, that friend of yours, Loras… he seems like a good bloke.”

Renly nodded at Royce.

“He’s new here, right? First year?”

Renly nodded again, and stuffed another spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

“How long have you known him for?”

Swallowing, Renly took a sip of his orange juice and sat back in his chair, deciding his calm, relaxing morning breakfast was officially ruined. “Two months.”

Royce nodded and mimicked Renly’s position, sitting back in his hair with a mug cradled in his hand. He stared out the window for a second, seemingly lost in thought, before turning back to Renly. “Is he gay?”

Renly swallowed the juice in his mouth carefully, stopping himself from comically spitting it out all across the table. It wasn’t the question that startled Renly—okay, it had startled him—but it was Royce’s tone that made Renly feel distinctly uncomfortable. He sounded worried.

“Why does it matter?” he asked slowly, not wanting to have this conversation. He didn’t think he’d be able to deal if he found out his best friend was a raging homophobe.

“I dunno, I just got this feeling he was.”

Renly supposed Loras yelling that he’d shag an entire football team helped with that feeling. Still, Renly knew there was more to it, and it just made him feel even worse. He didn’t want to ask—didn’t want to keep the conversation going—but he couldn’t leave it at that. He’d just be left wondering, twisting the conversation around in his head until he’d convinced himself that Royce was everything he was afraid of.

“Does it matter?”

There was a pause.

The dreaded pause.

It felt like an anvil was coming down toward him, its dark shadow growing larger and larger over top of him, but instead of fleeing like a roadrunner, he was stuck in place just waiting for the inevitable splat.

“No… It’s just… it’s weird. I’ve never met a fairy before.” Leaning forward, Royce looked across at Renly intently, everything about his expression serious. Renly couldn’t even delude himself into thinking Royce was joking, even if he wanted to. “I just never thought he’d be into sports. Don’t they usually like fashion and Lady Gaga or something? And has he come on to you? Will he come on to me?”

Renly felt sick. No, he didn’t feel sick—he was pretty sure he was going to _be_ sick if he didn’t leave. The room begin to swim, and his heart started to beat so fast he thought it was going to choke him. Every fear, every terror, every fucking _nightmare_ was coming true for Renly in that moment. Royce was voicing every unoriginal bigoted, homophobic view Renly had played over and over in his head when he was a kid trying to run away from his true feelings. Only, everything Royce was saying had been heard in the voice of his brothers—judgemental and horribly heavy like the slamming down of a judge’s hammer.

This was why he’d hidden. This was why he ran away from his feelings—it was because of this shit. If Renly told anyone he was gay he’d be left—shoved away because of stupid fears like he’d ‘come on’ to all his friends and that he’d infect them with AID’s or something equally horrendously fucked up. If Royce found out Renly would be alone—kicked out of the only place he’d ever been able to call home.

This was why he couldn’t say those three little words. Because being alone in a crowd was better than nothing…

But he wasn’t alone—not anymore.

He had Loras.

Standing abruptly, Renly hit the table, his left-over cereal to spill out across the table. “You’d be lucky to have Loras even give you a second glance,” he said through gritted teeth. Turning he left the kitchen, Royce’s shocked yell and jumbled apologies following him out, trying to latch on to him and drag him back. He brushed them off.

He was on autopilot from there on out, desperate to get away from everything and just feel whole again. He needed to see Loras, needing that safety and understanding he brought. He never felt so complete when he was with Loras, and the fact that he was always so afraid of that closeness was so ridiculous. He didn’t slow down until he reached Loras’ dorm, and ignored the looks of bleary eyed students as he took the steps to the second floor two at a time, shoving past whoever was in his way. God, Royce was such a fucking _cunt_. Jogging down the hallway, he knocked frantically at the door, jumping on the spot, adrenaline still coursing with him.

It wasn’t until he saw Loras that he could breathe again.


	5. Solace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors Note: Once again, thanks so much for the feedback and the likes! Very much appreciated, and I hope this chapter is what you were all looking for. Some much needed lovin' and opening up for Loras and Renly.

_It wasn’t until he saw Loras that he could breathe again._

Standing in the doorway, Loras looked a bit more bedraggled than usual, but he was still beautiful to Renly. Eyes puffy from sleep and hair limp and wet, Loras stood with a toothbrush in one hand and a comb in the other, bits of toothpaste at the corners of his mouth. Renly heard him swallow the toothpaste.

“What are you doing here, Ren?” Loras asked.

Renly wanted to just collapse in his embrace—wrap himself around Loras and never, ever let go. Instead he stayed mindful as to where they were. “Can I come in?”

Loras nodded and stood to the side, and Renly hurried in, already feeling so much better just being in Loras’ room. As soon as the door was shut he turned around and grabbed Loras, holding on to him. His hair was wet against his nose, and he smelled of rose shampoo with a hint of mint in it. Renly’s hand began to ache as soon as Loras wrapped his arm around him, and he realised he’d accidentally punched the table when he stood.

“What happened?” Loras asked, surprisingly soothing considering Renly had burst in on him mid-morning routine.

“It’s nothing,” Renly said. He didn’t want to talk about it. It would just make him angry and taint the space he was in. “I just needed to see you. To feel you.”

Loras kissed his temple, and suddenly everything seemed a little easier to handle.

“Do you have class to go to?” he asked after a time. Of course he had class—it was a Wednesday.

“Yeah, but it’s not important. I usually skip anyways.”

Renly would have told him to go had he not needed him so badly. He would have tagged along if Loras was really dead-set on attending, but luckily his boyfriend was a slacker and had no qualms about wasting his parents’ money.

“You’ll stay with me?” Renly asked, pulling away so he could look at Loras. He still had bits of toothpaste on his mouth.

Loras nodded—didn’t even hesitate—and reached up to run his hand through his hair. “Of course. Anything you want, babe.”

Renly didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve Loras. He was so understanding and thoughtful and gorgeous—everything Renly wanted but though that he could never have. Loras was perfect—even when he was being a complete brat that used violence more often than words. He was still so fucking perfect Renly felt like he was handling precious gems and gold whenever he held him in his arms. He was unusually patient with Renly, giving him his full attention even when Renly knew he didn’t deserve it. They both changed when they were with one another—they became the men they really were. They brought out the best in one another, and Renly was humbled by Loras and his _love_ for him.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Loras asked, breaking Renly from his epiphany.

Renly didn’t answer and instead surged forward, catching Loras in a hard kiss, cupping his face between his hands as he tried to pour everything he was feeling into that single embrace. All the hurt and the pain, the joy and the love—all of it, because he knew Loras could handle it and that he would take it from him and help him with it. Pulling back just a short distance, Renly locked eyes with Loras, soaking in the now familiar hazel hues, finding solace and comfort and acceptance in them.

He could taste peppermint.

“I need you,” Renly repeated, and was met with another kiss.

Running his hands up Loras’ back and down again, Loras moaned and pressed himself hard against Renly, the two standing chest to chest and hip to hip, lips pushing, and tongues rubbing. The sound of a dropped toothbrush and comb was heard behind Renly, followed by Loras’ long, calloused fingers running through Renly’s hair. Renly could feel Loras pushing him back toward the bed, and without even hesitating he stepped back, narrowly avoiding getting his foot caught on a discarded shirt and a pair of underpants.

Getting pushed back on to the bed, Renly fell, pulling Loras down with him. The blankets were a mess underneath him, bunches of fabric digging into his back and sticking to his clothes, but he didn’t care about that, finding all the comfort he needed with Loras.

They’d gotten this far before, the two kissing and caressing for hours—but they hadn’t gone any further, Renly hesitant to make that extra step. But today that hesitation was gone. Everything he’d been holding back from was exactly what he needed. He wanted Loras—completely and utterly—and he wasn’t going to let his friends or his family get in the way of that.

Because what was happening now, what he and Loras had, was worth the world and more.

They shed their shirts quickly, Renly making quick work of the buttons on his shirt while Loras just pulled his up and off. Tossing them across the room, Renly immediately reached up and to runs his palms along Loras’ side, feeling the softness of his skin whilst Loras did the same with his shoulders, long fingers dancing across his collarbone.

“How far do you want to—“

“All the way,” Renly panted out. Loras’ gaze went from the hollow of Renly’s neck to his eyes in a split second, but it only took a moment before Loras was nodding and smiling—surprisingly innocent given what they were going to do.

“You sure?” he asked. He was heavy on top of Renly, his thighs locked on either side of Renly’s waist. It was a comforting feeling. Keeping him grounded, quite literally, even. Kept him centered and focused and yet at the same time he felt like he’d float off at any moment, the sheer ecstasy of just having Loras here, above him, looking like that, making Renly feel free.

He knew that coming here in such a hurry and asking for sex was bound to have questions asked, and for a moment he was wondering if he was doing this for the right reasons. But he then realised that any excuse to be with Loras was a good one, and that he’d always wanted this—he just needed that extra push. He wasn’t doing this to get back at anyone or to prove anything; he wanted this.

“Positive,” he said as he sat up. Wrapping his arm around Loras’ shoulder, he pulled him in for a kiss, growling as Loras bit his bottom lip and pulled. Loras’ fingers wrapped around his upper arm, gripping on tight as they switched positions, Loras down on the bed with Renly up above, his arm trapped underneath Loras’ neck.

Grinding down, Loras pulled back from the kiss and arched up into Renly’s touch, shuddering beneath him and exposing his neck. Not wasting a second, Renly licked up Loras’ neck before biting, marking Loras—wanting to stake his claim and tell anyone who gave a damn that they were together. That Loras was his.

“S-Shit,” Loras panted out, grinding upward to meet Renly. They still had their trousers on, but Renly could feel Loras’ cock as it grew harder, the two getting as much friction going on between them as possible. The bed was starting to move along with them, and once or twice Renly heard the headboard slap against the wall. That just seemed to drive Loras a little madder, his hands finding purchase on Renly’s ass, grabbing and holding on as they humped on the bed.

But Renly wanted more—he needed more. Pulling away he sat back and started to undress Loras this time, wanting to see him fully. His hands began to shake as he undid his belt and the buttons, pulling the zipper down to expose bright baby blue underpants that were barely containing a hardening cock. Renly wasn’t sure if the shakes were from nerves or excitement, but they didn’t bother him. He knew he wanted this, and the way his cock twitched when he saw Loras’ bulge just solidified how fucking much he wanted him.

“Come on—don’t leave me like this.” Loras’ voice broke Renly from his staring, and he looked up to see Loras lying on the bed, hair a tangled, damp mess on the pillows. He smiled apologetically and began to work his pants off, wrestling with how tight they were around his lanky legs for a second until he was free. That just left the underpants.

Reaching out, Renly cupped Loras’ groin and rubbed his erection through the cotton, eliciting a tiny moan from Loras. His cock twitched in his hand, and Renly took a moment to appreciate just how satisfying that felt. His own prick was pushing up against the front of his jeans, but all he could care about was Loras and the weight and warmth of his cock. They’d both slowed down at this point, Renly needed time to soak in all in, and Loras realizing this and not pushing, even though his hips were twitching up impatiently.

Finally Renly hooked his finger under the elastic strap and pulled a little, Loras raising his hips to help with the motion. Renly only tugged as far as it took to free Loras’ cock and balls, before stopping to admire. Even though they’d shagged before, Renly had only had a quick glance at Loras’ prick whilst they were having sex, a quick flash here and there through the light from between the blinds. After that it had only been when it was flaccid, and while Loras’ cock was something to be admired, Renly wouldn’t go as far as to say a flaccid cock was very erotic.

But an erect one certainly was.

“Fuck…” Renly breathed out, realizing he’d only said something when Loras chuckled. “Sorry I just… I thought about your cock a lot, but I’m just… wow.” It was long but not as thick as Renly’s, and bounced now and again, the foreskin pulling back to expose the red tip that was collecting pre-cum. His balls were just the right size, pert and round and not at all saggy like Renly had seen on other blokes in the locker room showers—not that he was looking, of course.

“Your turn,” Loras said, grinning up at Renly, his tongue sticking out between his teeth. He was wiggling impatiently. Loras was a squirmier. Nodding, Renly sat up and began undoing everything, pulling his trousers and briefs off in one fell swoop. Sitting back on the bed, he tore them from his legs and pushed them on to the floor along with the rest of the mess. Getting back up on to his knees, he stared down at his own cock that was getting to be fully erect before his gaze wandered back up to Loras’. Loras had shed his underpants fully now, and was completely, deliriously, gloriously naked.

Before he could do anything, Loras was sitting up and grabbing Renly’s shoulders, bracing his hands on him as he climbed on to his lap. Instinctually Renly reached out and placed his hands on Loras’ narrow waist, watching in eager anticipation as Loras’ thighs pressed against his own, and their cocks came achingly close together.

“You wanna touch us both or shall I?” Loras asked. His hot breath shuddered against Renly’s lips, and Renly stared up at Loras, so close to him he could count every eyelash if he wanted to. The prospect of jacking his cock off against Loras’ was a bit more tempting, however, and he reached down between them to wrap his hand around the two of them, biting his bottom lip as their eyes stayed locked and their cocks pressed together.

He’d never touched another man like this, but it was everything he’d wanted. To feel Loras’ length against his own, to touch the warmth and hardness of his cock, it was like nothing else. Loras’ appreciation was also something to be cherished, the low rumble in his throat and the hitching of his breath making Renly’s toes curl in pleasure and pride.

He didn’t think this weird; didn’t feel uncomfortable or shameful. A part of him thought maybe he would—a part of him had thought maybe he _should_ —but he didn’t. This felt right. It felt good. It felt better than anything he’d ever done before, and they’d only just rubbed cocks together for a bit.

Increasing the speed as he got more comfortable, he looked down between them, watching as Loras began to thrust upward, strong thighs flexing and the head of his cock pushing through Renly’s hand. Loras was moaning softly as he was worked, and Renly fed off of it, focusing in on what made Loras moan and what made him cry out. Eventually Loras was hugging Renly, long arms wrapped around him, fingers carding through his hair. Renly pressed his face against Loras’ shoulder, leaving a sloppy kiss against his sweaty skin.

“I want more,” Renly murmured against Loras’ shoulder. He was a shaking, panting mess already but he wanted more. Needed more. Loras was intoxicating and addictive, the taste of his skin and the feel of his body against his own driving Renly wild. He could only imagine what else he could give. Looking up at Loras, he swallowed thickly and leaned into Loras’ hand as it cupped his cheek. “That is, if you’re willing to give it to me.”

“I’ve been waiting for bloody ever for you to ask me that,” Loras said, chuckling as he leaned in for a slow, easy kiss, one that belied the desperation their bodies were in. “Of course— I’ll give you _anything_.”

It was odd to hear that. Renly had gone through life never having anyone to depend on, and therefore never asking anything of anyone. Sure, asking Cressen for the occasional ice lolly had happened from time to time, but everything he’d ever really been given had been from a lawyer in charge of his parents’ estate. To hear someone so casually state that they would give him anything, and stranger still, for Renly to believe them, made him feel something he couldn’t quite explain.

He promised himself he would muddle through that strange, new feeling when he wasn’t about to have sex.

As he sat on the bed pondering everything, Loras had taken it upon himself to grab what they needed from the bedside drawer, his arse in the air as he rummaged around, teasing Renly. In a bold mood he reached out to touch him, running his hands along the smooth, warm skin of Loras’ arse, and very much enjoying how he could just take a palm full of flesh without being batted away.

“You’re distracting me,” Renly could hear Loras mumble over his shoulder.

“So?” he replied, his hand sliding up to run along his lower back, causing Loras to arch into his touch.

“S-So, if you keep that up you’ll never get what you want,” explained Loras patiently. Quick as a whip, Loras flipped over on to his back, long legs narrowly missing kicking Renly in the face. Renly didn’t have time to berate Loras for almost knocking a few teeth out, though, as Loras was doing a good job of distracting him with a bottle of lube and a condom in his hands.

“Did you want to help me or shall I do it?” Loras asked, flipping the cap open as he settled back on his bed, head pressed into the pillows. Renly realised Loras had an awful lot of fluffy pillows on his bed for just one person.

He then realised he had no idea what Loras was asking. “What?”

“Prepare me—you know, you can’t just go in without stretching me a bit. I haven’t had anal in a while so…” He shrugged, and then waggled the bottle in front of Renly’s nose. Later on Renly would realise that Loras was being so playful and off the cuff about it all because he didn’t want to worry Renly. He didn’t want to make him feel as if this was more important than it had to be, and that if it didn’t go perfectly, as first time anal sex rarely did, that it didn’t matter. There would be other times—that was a promise they’d both silently made.

“I’d like to help,” he decided, grabbing Loras’ wrist and snatching the lube from him, smiling and forgetting about all his worries—the ones about Royce and his brothers, as well as the nerves he’d been having about having sex with Loras. “You’ll need to help me.”

“Ever fingered a girl before?” Loras asked, “I imagine it is similar, only there is more… stretching needed. And, if you curl your finger just right… let’s just say you’ll make me very happy.”

“The prostate—yeah I know about that,” Renly said, rolling his eyes but smiling anyways. “I’m not that ignorant.”

Applying a generous amount of lube to his fingers, Renly mumbled a quick apology for getting lube on the bed covers, but was quickly silenced with a deep kiss from Loras. Pulling away after a time, Loras lay back down on the bed and spread his legs, hitching himself up a bit to give Renly easy access.

Scooting forward so he could sit closer, Renly bit his bottom lip in concentration, and reached down to press his finger gently against Loras’ hole. He could feel him clench and then relax.

“You’re going to have to be a bit harder than that,” Loras said, shifting down a bit, pushing Renly’s finger against his hole once more. “I’m not breakable—you can be a little harder than that.”

Nodding, Renly pushed a bit harder, and felt the tip of his finger slip inside Loras. From there it was easy to push all the way in, and Renly watched Loras’ face carefully as he prepared him. For a bit Loras seemed a little uncomfortable, but once he explained how to make it feel good, the little waves of pleasure that slipped across his face and made his brows furrow in pleasure came back to him. Renly could see why someone would enjoy this—just the simple act of pleasuring his partner, despite not getting physical satisfaction, was immensely rewarding on a purely emotional one. He wanted Loras to feel good, and derived the same feelings when he accomplished that.

After stretching Loras and finding that ‘sweet spot’ a few times over, Loras was saying he was ready. Renly had lost a bit of his erection, having neglected it as he worked Loras, but he didn’t have to worry as Loras was stroking him and kissing him, getting him worked up once more. Grabbing the condom, Loras ripped the package open and tossed it on to the floor, then took the condom and unrolled it on to Renly’s cock. Renly watched all of this with a hazy mind, enjoying the look of Loras’ strong, broad hands getting him ready.

“How do you want to do this?” Renly asked once his condom was on and they both appeared ready to go. “I mean, what is your favourite position?”

“I like it all,” Loras said, running his hands up and down Renly’s chest. “Riding might be best right now, though? I can control the speed and angle myself so I can hit my prostate?”

“And I’d get a fantastic view…” Renly mumbled, imagining what Loras would look like bouncing on top of him.

He supposed he wouldn’t have to imagine anymore.

Loras pushed him gently on to the bed, and Renly moved with easy, keeping his eyes locked with Loras’ as he relaxed best he could. His nerves had come back, but they were good nerves. Nothing else mattered but Loras in that moment, and that was exactly what Renly needed. He wanted to be lost in him completely and utterly.

He felt Loras reach back and grasp his cock, and the press of his hole against the head as he leaned back. All the while their eyes were still locked, Renly feeding off the uncontained desire swirling around in Loras’ piercing gaze. As he sat down on him, Loras let out a slow, low moan, pillow soft lips spread in a small ‘o’. His muscles were straining and Renly could feel him quivering on top of him, thighs shaking as he finally sheathed himself fully.

Renly had to close his eyes then. The image of Loras, his hair matted and hanging around his face, skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and chest heaving as he breathed heavily above him was enough to send Renly over, but then the combined feeling of having his dick encased in such tight heat only made it that much harder to keep control.

He’d had sex before, but this feeling with Loras was something entirely different. To be inside Loras completed Renly in a way he never thought he’d get to feel. Everything felt so _right_. He wanted this feeling to last forever, rather than to end as quickly as possible so he could feel shame and regret and guilt for doing this with someone he didn’t really care for. But he cared for Loras. From his boney ankles to his gorgeous, gold spun curls; his loving and laughing personality, to his emotional and often times violent outbursts. He cared for it all. It was everything he wanted.

“H-How you feeling?” Loras asked after sitting on top of Renly for a bit, both of them adjusting to the newness of it all—for Loras Renly’s girth, and for Renly it was Loras’ weight and strength.

“Fantastic… you?” he asked, opening his eyes to look up at Loras. Loras’ hands were braced on his chest, matted hair from the shower curtaining his face as he stared down at Renly. Morning light from outside was peering inside the room, casting Loras in a brilliant light that highlighted all the wonderful points on his body.

Including the tip of his cock and the precum that leaked from it.

“I’m feeling really fucking horny,” Loras replied, a lusty chuckle afterward making Renly buck up without meaning to. That just seemed to serve as the signal however, and Loras began to slowly rock back and forth on top of Renly, fingers digging a bit into his chest, his eyes locked with Renly’s and bottom lip sucked between his teeth, a half smirk on his lips.

Renly couldn’t say much—couldn’t even really think much—and decided to not ruin the moment by saying anything and just went along with the motion. Rocking up now and again, he gripped Loras’ thighs, the two creating an easy rhythm between them soon enough. Renly let his eyes roam all over Loras’, taking in every little detail of his body, the smallest of freckles on his shoulder making his cock twitch inside him.

“Y-you’re g-gorgeous,” Renly panted out as Loras began to move faster, rocking back in a particular way that made both of them moan. Loras was louder than Renly, making little sounds all throughout, and Renly just enjoyed them— throaty, masculine moans and little huffs here and there.

It had been a while since Renly had had sex, and the slow build had done nothing to quell the fire within him. Loras was going fast but not fast enough, and Renly could feel him getting tired as he worked himself up above, his thighs shaking more and his head rolling back and to the side.

Renly decided he wanted Loras beneath him—wanted to control their speed a bit and see if he could get Loras off before he came. “Lie on the bed?” he asked. Loras slowed then, and looked down at Renly. For a second Renly thought he was going to refuse, but then Loras nodded and slipped off of Renly and lay down on the small bed beside him. Immediately Renly got up and carefully pushed himself back into Loras, Loras helping him by raising himself up a bit.

Once back inside he felt long arms wrap around him, and he eased into Loras’ embrace, his warmth and energy reassuring. Kissing Loras deeply, he began to move again, moaning into the kiss as Loras wrapped his legs around his waist, tucking him in closer. It didn’t take much longer after that. Loras began to stroke himself between their joined forms, and while Renly wished he could help him with the task, he was totally focused on not mucking up the basic task of thrusting.

He ended up coming first. The smell and feel and taste of Loras sent him crashing over, and he bit down on to Loras’ shoulder gently, muffling his groan as he thrust and pushed into Loras. It was an orgasm like any other, but it came with a certain satisfaction he’d never felt before, as well as a peace and a calm. His afterglow wouldn’t be replaced with dread, and he knew that when all was said and done he could stay in Loras’ bed and enjoy everything.

He felt Loras come soon after, a loud moan and the tensing of his body beneath his own. Renly peppered his neck with lazy kissed and ran his hand through his messy hair as he came, holding on to him as his afterglow lapped around him and Loras’ orgasm reached its peak.

Pulling out and rolling off, Renly collapsed beside him on the bed, pressed between Loras and the wall, the coolness of the wall contrasting with his heated skin and the softness beside and under him.

Resting up on his elbow, Renly looked down at Loras, pleased to see a lazy smile on his features as he looked up at him. “I’m sorry I didn’t get you off,” he said. He imagined there were better things to say after that—more romantic things—but it slipped out before he could stop it.

Loras didn’t seem to mind.

“It’s alright. Your cock did a good job of getting me there. Next time I’ll teach you how to multitask,” he said, kissing Renly’s chin. Renly listened to the breathing of Loras and the sound of a door closing down the hallway, and found he was content and safe.

As they lay together, Renly admiring Loras, he realised just what they’d done. Loras had given him exactly what he needed—what he desired—and he’d taken it without a second thought. No hesitation, no thought of who might judge…

“Loras…”

Loras hummed, eyes half closed. He looked golden in the light. “What?”

“I am gay.”

There were no trumpets, no chorus and no streamers. And there were also no planes falling out of the sky, volcanic eruptions or four men on horses breaking through the clouds. There was only Loras.

For a second Renly thought Loras was laughing because he’d been waiting to hear it in order to make fun of him. Of course it was ridiculous—why someone would court him and then have sex with him, all to shame him for his sexuality, was completely absurd.

But Loras was cupping his face and bringing him down for a sweet kiss that hinted of joy, and Renly couldn’t help but return the embrace and the smile. He supposed it was an odd time to say that—especially considering what they’d just done. If it wasn’t obvious then, it sure as hell was now.

“You want to know something else?” Loras said when they broke apart. His hands were still cupping Renly’s face, warm and soft.

“What?” Renly asked, his hand running flat against Loras’ stomach.

“I’m gay, too.”

It was Renly’s turn to chuckle, and another kiss was shared.

XX

Renly woke to the sound of a growling stomach.

He wasn’t sure if it was his own or not, and reached down between he and Loras to pat his stomach, feeling for that familiar grumble. The sound was heard again, this time clearer, no longer muddled by sleep.

It was Loras. Definitely Loras.

“I didn’t eat this morning.” Loras’ bleary voice broke through the quiet of the room. He was lying in Renly’s arms, body pressed in close and head tucked under his chin, and his lips brushed Renly’s chest as he spoke. Renly had never held anyone like this before—safely in his arms, tucked in nicely between his arms and chest, their breath tickling his skin and body warming his own. It was a very good feeling, he decided. Good and… good.

He’d come up with a better description when he wasn’t so drowsy.

“Why not?” he asked in response to Loras’ remark.

“Some arsehole came into my room and shagged me before I had a chance to even dry my hair from a shower.”

Oops. “Sorry about that,” Renly said, kissing the top of Loras’ head. Pressing his face in his curls, he smelled the minty rose shampoo once more, and grinned. He didn’t figure Loras a rose shampoo sort of bloke.

“Make it up to me?” Loras pulled away a bit and looked up at Renly, smiling and kissing his jaw. “Your stubble is itchy.”

Renly laughed softly and leaned down for a kiss. This was _very_ nice.

Pulling away he regretfully let Loras go as he began to move about. He wanted to hold him for just a little longer, but the sun that peered inside was making Loras’ room hot, and their skin was beginning to stick together as dust moats floated about in the rays.

“How do you want me to make it up to you?” he asked, rubbing his jaw while he lounging on the bed. Loras got up and began sorting through their clothes, looking for something.

“Take me for lunch?” he asked, pulling his mobile from his pants pocket. “It’s noon—perfect timing.” He flashed the screen at Renly, and Renly pretended to read the time. He was more caught up on the background on his mobile.

“Is that a footballer?”

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Loras passed him the phone, letting him admire the photo of a man who no doubt attracted many admirers. He’d have been jealous had he not been mildly attracted himself.

“Who is it?” he asked again, shivering slightly as Loras pet his thigh under the blankets.

“Bloke named Kenwyne Jones. I hate who he plays for because he’s not with Arsenal, but… well, I’m shallow.” Taking the phone back, he tossed it on to his bedside table, then clambered on to Renly’s lap, pushing Renly down on the mattress and sitting himself directly over top his cock. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” Renly said, then decided that wasn’t sufficient. “Brilliant. Fantastic. I feel… complete.” He smiled and ran his hands up and down Loras’ thighs, enjoying the casual displays of intimacy that they could now share. He felt like a weight had been lifted from him—a weight he’d been carrying for a long, long time—and now he could finally fly.

“Feel like talking about what brought you over here in the first place?”

Renly felt like he’d just crashed back down to reality.

“Not really.”

Loras hummed and snatched Renly’s hands in his own. “Buy me lunch?”

Renly sighed but agreed. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to buy Loras lunch, it was more than he didn’t want to leave the comfort of his bed. It was warm and soft, and smelled of Loras. Besides, inside Loras’ room he could be whoever he wanted. Outside of his room he was once again reminded of who he was to everyone else—a Baratheon, and a ‘heterosexual’ one at that. But Loras wanted food, and Renly was quickly realizing that what Loras wanted, Loras eventually got.

They dressed swiftly, shooting each other eyes as they did so, both still hung up on what they’d done. Loras kept making comments about how fit Renly was, and Renly soaked them in, allowing his ego to be stroked a little bit, even as he became increasingly worried about the events of the morning. He’d have to talk to Royce eventually—they lived in the same house, after all.

Loras dragged Renly to some greasy spoon diner a few blocks from campus, the place relatively busy as the afternoon lunch crowd finished what they’d ordered in time to run off to class or back to work. Renly remembered that they were supposed to be attending class, but found he didn’t much care about that as he sat down across from Loras in a booth by the window. Immediately Loras had scooted forward to knock their knees together, a silly smile on his lips that was half hidden behind a menu.

When the waitress came Loras ordered a coke and a glass of water, and Renly decided to have just water, not wanting to add to his stresses by mixing caffeine with his anxiety. He knew he said he didn’t want to discuss what had happened to make him come over in the first place, but now that Loras had brought it up, Renly was thinking about it again, repeating the argument again and again in his head. He was growing increasingly frustrated, and didn’t realise he hadn’t even opened his menu until the waitress came back with their drinks and asked if they were ready to order.

“I’ll have what he’s having,” Renly said quickly, and hoped he didn’t regret it.

Loras paused a moment and sent Renly a questioning glance, before returning his attention to the waitress. “I’ll have the bacon butty, but instead of the baked beans can I get a side of fried mushrooms?”

She nodded and jotted down the order, and left the two of them alone.

“You alright?” Loras asked as soon as she’d left.

Renly had planned on discussing what was bothering him, but instead asked, “You don’t like baked beans? Are you sure you’re English?”

Loras laughed and sat back in the booth, his knee slipping even further so that his leg was resting between Renly’s. “I never had it as a kid—my Gran was insistent we eat proper home cooked meals that never included too many canned things. I honestly think she hated the baked beans and never wanted it in the house with her, but that’s just suspect at the moment. Still, never got the taste for them and haven’t since.”

Loras was an odd duck, but Renly found he liked that.

“So anyways—tell me what happened with you,” Loras continued, obviously not letting Renly off the hook just yet.

Running a hand through his messy hair, Renly pulled a face and then pinched the bridge of his nose. He wasn’t sure where to start or how much to divulge. He was still pissed at Royce for what he’d said, but at the same time held on to the tiniest belief that he was just really ignorant and didn’t actually mean any harm. If that was the case, he didn’t want to shine a bad light on his best friend to his boyfriend.

“You remember Royce, right? He said some things… about you.”

Loras stopped chewing on the straw of his drink. “What did he say?” he slowly asked.

“Things and shit.”

“Renly…”

“He sort of insinuated that because you’re gay you shouldn’t like sports, and then wondered if you liked Lady Gaga. He then sort of indirectly called you a fairy.”

“The fucker said _what_?”

Fellow patrons turned to regard the two of them, and Renly could see a mother belatedly covering her child’s ears, almost poking the kid in the eye as she watched them rather than where her child’s ears were.

“Loras…” he said in a tone that he thought was controlling but came out more pleading. “Please don’t make this a bigger situation than it has to be.”

“A bigger situations than it has to be?” Leaning in across the table, Loras pegged Renly in his seat with his narrowed eyes. Renly knew Loras was going to get aggressive about this—it was what he _did_. Renly had been lucky in that Loras’ wrath was rarely ever directed at him, but he’d seen it come out at other people. Renly was always stuck between viewing Loras as a petty child who complained when he didn’t get his way, and a full grown man who was passionate about his principles and stood up for what he believed.

Right now it was a mix of both.

“He’s just an ignorant cunt,” Renly said, keeping his voice low. “I just didn’t want to deal with him so I came over.”

“I’m going to kick his arse. I don’t care if he’s your friend—I’m going to ram this straw up his arse.” Loras brandished his straw from his drink, sending little droplets of coke flying all around.

“I don’t need you defending my honour,” Renly said quickly. This was exactly why he didn’t want to talk about it. Closing his hand around Loras’, he made him drop the straw on to the table, and tangled their fingers together. “You’re not a knight and I’m not a defenseless lady.”

“This isn’t about defending your honour,” Loras said. Renly could see his features soften, however, and the barest of smiles tugged at his mouth as he no doubt thought about being a knight. “He was talking shite about me as well. I can enjoy getting fucked in the arse and sucking a cock, and still be a footy fan. And, for the record—I hate Lady Gaga. Give me the Clash any day.”

“Let me talk to him?” Renly asked. “I don’t want you fighting my battles, and I really don’t want you hitting one of my mates—I’ve still got to live with the bloke after all of this. And if anyone is going to get me kicked from the flat it’s going to be me hitting Royce; not you.”

Sighing, Loras jutted his bottom lip out and looked down at the table. _Now_ he looked like a petulant, bratty child. Renly could feel him bouncing his knee under the table, curls shaking gently with the motion. Finally; “I guess… but if he keeps it up I get to hit him.”

“Fine,” Renly said, conceding on that. Renly liked to avoid violence if he could, preferring to talk things through before any fists went flying. He was diplomatic and political with his approach to interacting with others, always giving people the benefit of the doubt. He figured it was years of having to tread around Robert’s excessive aggression, and that fighting would have gotten him nowhere in life. He needed friends—not enemies—to make his existence worth living.

Loras, on the other hand, was the sort of bloke to kick in a few heads first, and ask questions later.

The food arrived then, Loras pulling away but keeping their hands locked together. The waitress paid them no mind, and Renly felt the frantic beat of his heart calm as soon as he realised she didn’t care. The food smelled amazing, despite looking like someone just slapped a bunch of meat and bread on to a plate, and the two dug in immediately, famished from the mornings events.

Renly couldn’t think of many things that could compare to eating a sandwich filled with bacon after having spectacular sex with the beautiful boy sitting across from him.

“Thanks for skipping class with me today,” he said as soon as he’d swallowed.

Loras shrugged and shot Renly a cheeky smile. “Well the option was either going to class and falling asleep in the back, or shagging and getting bacon—it was a pretty easy decision.”

“Still, you didn’t have to stay with me.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“No you didn’t.”

Loras put his fork down and gave Renly a level stare. “Yes, I did. You were in distress and you needed comfort. It’s what boyfriends do. More importantly, it’s what _friends_ do.”

Renly felt a creeping feeling in his chest then—little pinpricks up his spine and across his skull that made him want to curl into himself for just a moment so he could treasure what had just been said. Renly had never had someone he could depend on for anything—not even a friend whom he could trust completely and utterly with everything. He always felt he gave more than he’d ever receive, and his friendship was based on a barter system of give and take.

But with Loras it was different. Loras had his back and he had Loras’ back—simple as that. He trusted Loras.

“Hey, can I talk to you about something?” Putting his mostly eaten sandwich down, he pushed his mushrooms around on his plate with the end of his fork for something to do as he muddled through his feelings— _again_.

“Sure.”

“I think I’ve got abandonment issues.”

Loras quirked a brow, and Renly could see him shove a half-eaten mushroom to the side of his mouth. “Yeah?”

“Yeah… maybe. I don’t know—I don’t want to self-diagnose or anything, but I think all of this hiding my sexuality had stemmed from me not wanting to be abandoned. Just, hearing Royce voice all the fears I had about peoples’ perception of me once I came out as being gay really hit me. I was terrified for a second that he’d just get up and leave if I told him I was seeing you. That I’m gay.”

Loras nodded and sipped his coke, keeping his attention fixed on Renly over the rim of his glass. “Is this the reason you never told your brothers?”

“Probably… I mean, I don’t like my brothers—I’d be perfectly happy if they disappeared off the face of the earth—but they were the only real tangible link I had as a kid. My only friend was a girl named Brienne, but she only was in the area during the summer. I could only escape my brothers when she was around—otherwise it was months of just Stannis and Robert. Much as I think Brienne would have liked to have kept me safe, she couldn’t support a twelve year old... Just the thought of losing my brothers when I needed some sort of support, even if it was minimal and lacked a certain affection, was terrifying.”

“So what’s changed?” asked Loras. “Why have you decided to come out now?”

Finally, a simple question with a simple answer.

“I met a boy.”

XX

Renly spent the rest of the day with Loras, delaying the inevitable by attending Loras’ football practice. He’d sat on the sideline, vaguely aware of what was going on around him, but mostly mulling over what he’d say to Royce. Once more, Renly debated the merits of running off to India in order to avoid the entire confrontation, but decided he had to return to his place to pack anyways, so the idea was scrapped altogether.

The walk home was long and cold, the vestiges of autumn giving way to the crispness of winter. He’d forgotten his jacket in his haste to get away, and was left with his hands shoved in his pockets and his arms pressed tight against his sides as he hurried as quickly as he could. He was grateful for the cold weather, for it pushed him to go faster when he might otherwise have stalled and wandered around outside before going home.

Opening the door, he slipped inside and tried to make as little noise as possible, but was caught at the doorway by Emmon who decided to yell his presence to the entire house.

“Hey guys—Baratheon is home!” he shouted, slapping Renly hard on the arm before vaulting up the wooden stairs to his room.

Immediately Royce’s head appeared around the corner of the kitchen door, and Renly swore his ears perked like a dog’s would.

“Where the fuck have you been, mate?” Royce asked. He walked down the hallway toward Renly like he thought he was about to get scolded, and Renly would have laughed had the urge to punch Royce not taken over.

It was just one hit—a strong strike to the side of his jaw that sent Royce stumbling off to the side. Renly’s hand immediately started to throb, but the action had made the rest of him calm down. All he needed was that one hit; just get it all out before he could even think about talking to him.

Royce seemed to understand, sorting himself with no malice or even surprise in his gaze as he looked at Renly. Hesitantly he touched his jaw, feeling the tender skin with mild concern. “You feel better?” he asked.

Renly nodded and exhaled sharply, as if to expel the rest of his pent up aggression. “Yeah, a bit.”

“Look, mate, I’m sorry about this morning. I didn’t think that… I mean, I didn’t _think_.”

“I noticed,” Renly replied, rubbing his knuckles. “You’re a bit of an ignorant twat, you know that?” Renly felt like he was channeling Loras at the moment. He’d told him there would be no violence, but here he was, punching Royce and calling him a twat. He really shouldn’t have gone to that football match. So much running and kicking and slamming.

“I know. I wasn’t thinking. I just… I’ve never met a gay bloke before. I don’t know what I expected.”

“How about a human being?”

Royce blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I know. I’m sorry, I just don’t know what to do. Should I apologize to Loras? Did you tell him?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“So should I apologize?”

“Might help. Might also help to not spout off homophobic shit about him around his partner.”

It took Royce a second to process. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but instead of speaking his mouth just continued to hang open, eyes widening to epic proportion. Finally he said: “You’re… I mean… am I understanding this right? He’s your _boyfriend_?”

Renly nodded. He felt confident—the first time he’d felt confident in a long while. Loras had given him strength and support for months now, keeping him afloat when he felt like he was going to sink at any moment, so it was about time he supported Loras. It was about time he stopped hiding how important Loras was to him.

“Yeah, he is. We’ve been dating since the start of term.”

Royce was silent. Renly couldn’t tell if it was from guilt, shock, or disgust. He was just staring at Renly, looking like he’d just had dynamite shoved up his rectum.

“I’m so sorry, Renly. I didn’t… I didn’t mean to. I mean…”

At least he was sorry. At least he wasn’t hitting him. At least he wasn’t spouting off more bigoted remarks that reeked of misinformation and a general lack of caring to know any better.

Renly was still angry—still upset and more than a little hurt—but he was also getting tired of feeling that way. His fire had been dampened, and he just wanted to put it all behind them and sleep for a few days.

“It’s fine. Just... don’t say that shit. Think what you want to think, but I urge you to, I dunno, learn a bit. We’re not all what you think we are.”

_We_. As in, Renly along with the rest of the gay community. It felt so weird to say that, and yet reassuring. He wasn’t alone in this.

“No, of course not. I’m just an idiot. A bleeding idiot. I’m really fucking sorry, mate.” Royce did seem sorry. He wasn’t just saying it in order to get good with Renly again—he could hear the frustration in his tone that told him he was angry at himself and not with Renly.

Renly wasn’t ready to just forgive, however.

“It’s fine, Royce. I’m going to go to bed, but we can talk later if you want.”

Royce nodded and watched Renly head up the stairs, hands wrapped tight around the banister. “For sure, mate. I mean, one of my best friends has a new partner—you gotta tell me all about it!”

It sounded desperate, and a little forced, but it was something.


	6. Homesick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors Note: A Loras POV chapter! I'm usually not one for switching POV out of nowhere in fics, but I thought it would be a good addition to include how Loras feels and what he's experiencing with Renly. Come next chapter we'll be back with Renly!
> 
> Again, thank you for the support by reading, reviewing, and liking!

There were three things Loras had been told when he went off to university.

The first two were quickly forgotten, Loras not really having the time or the patience to pay them any mind as he worried about what courses to take, wanting a good grade with minimal effort. The third part, however, stuck with him, because as the months went by and the seasons changed, that third tick on the list applied to him more than he thought it would.

_You’ll change_. That was what his brothers had said, his father and mother—even his gran had stated that, which was surprising given she’d seemed to have made up her mind about him when he was still in nappies (‘an underachiever academically with a bad-attitude but a pretty face’ seemed to be her general perception of him). He wasn’t told if he’d change for the better or for worst, but he was told _something_ would change about him. Evolve or devolve—who could tell?

At first he’d scoffed at the idea, finding he already knew who he was when he entered university. He was confident in himself, believing there need nothing changed because he was already who he was. He hadn’t changed much the last few years in secondary school; why now?

But then he met a boy.

It was entirely cliché—running into a tall, dark and handsome man in a coffee shop on his first day of university—but there it was. He’d seen Renly before at various events their families had dragged them to, but he’d never spoken to him, far too young and a bit of a menace to be left alone to converse with the elite. He’d admired, however. Boy how he’d admired. Renly was attractive in a way that was undeniable, and carried himself in a confident, laid-back manner that Loras could have only hoped to emulate.

He hadn’t planned for their meeting to go beyond what it was—a chance encounter in a coffee shop—but when he’d spotted Renly at the party, he knew he had to speak to him again. He felt comfortable around him, and thought that maybe, just maybe, if he was near him long enough he could grasp some of that easy going confidence he thought Renly wore so well.

Turned out, Renly wasn’t all that confident or easy going. One drunken fuck later and Loras was in over his head, dealing with someone who was the exact opposite of what he was looking, or arguably ready, for.

He’d talked to Margaery shortly after he woke the next morning, a pounding in between his brows and sticky skin that told of the previous night’s exploits. He explained what had happened, hoping her level head would help to temper his own. Despite having acted remarkably casual during Renly’s freak-out and subsequent running away, Loras had a bit of a fit as soon as he’d left, kicking over a box of unpacked goods and cursing Renly’s terrible judgement call whilst still naked and drunk. He felt like a fool—like he’d been used by Renly in order to prove to himself that he was straight or whatever the fucked up case may have been.

But in the morning he realised that Renly’s pained expression wasn’t one he could have just faked, and that the mistake he’d made hadn’t been out of malice. And that was why the call to Margaery had been made. Normally he’d have just let them go their separate ways, even with the fact that he’d given Renly his mobile number (and later discovered he had his wallet), but Renly had managed to get a hold on him, and Loras found he was thinking about him more than he’d thought about anyone else.

Margaery had at first made a few ‘tut-tut’ sounds as he explained what he’d done, more judging his drinking the first week at university than anything else, before Loras could practically hear her raise her brows in shock as he continued on about how, despite it all, he really wanted to see Renly again.

What he’d do when or if he saw him again was up in the air, but there was a nagging feeling in him that told him he couldn’t let this go—he couldn’t let Renly go. Renly represented the inner-fear he’d had about his own sexuality, and it was only his loving family that had gotten him through it all. But it seemed his willingness to support Renly was what had shocked Margaery.

Loras was many positive things. He was an incredible athlete and a socialite, with unwavering loyalty and dedication to his family. But he also had many negative qualities that, although he tried to hide, were apparent to anyone who cared to look beyond his pretty smile and naturally curly hair. He was aggressive and at times violent, cared little for academic learning, and had a tendency to have little regard for those who were outside of his family. His last boyfriend broke up with Loras because, as he put it: “You’re a selfish twat, Loras! You’ve got no regard for me or for anyone else save you and your sister. Grow up and look outside your little box and realise life isn’t convenient all the time! You… You wanker!”

Which was why Margaery was so shocked that Loras was willing to ‘look outside his little box and realise life wasn’t convenient all the time’.

Loras was forever grateful that he did.

His first year of university was spent getting to know an amazing individual who both depending on him and also supported him, and who made him look outside his narrow little world and enjoy the feelings of being in a partnership with someone. Loras’ happiness had slowly but surely become Renly’s happiness.

Which was why he was dreading the end of the year—because without his sun, how was Loras supposed to shine?

“You look fantastic tonight,” Renly mumbled against Loras’ ear.

Smiling, Loras kissed his temple and pulled away to look at him. The lights were dim out on the dance-floor, but Loras could see Renly perfectly, from the way his lips curved up in a smirk to how his eyes twinkled with a certain mischief that spoke of future adventures.

“Really? Because I still feel a bit like a zombie,” he said. He rubbed Renly’s shoulder, kneading the muscle before his hand drifted down to grasp his forearms as they swung their hips to the side to the beat of the music.

“You’re done all your exams—no more zombie-mode.” Renly kissed Loras quickly—a peck on the lips that appeared simple to anyone who didn’t know how far Renly had come. Just a few months ago such a kiss wouldn’t have been possible, Renly still uneasy about his sexuality, keeping such displays of affection for when they were all alone. But that was a few months ago. Now they were dancing together at an end of term party, pressed in nice and tight with their noses bumping and their hands wandering. Everyone knew they had come to the party together, and everyone knew they’d leave together as well. Loras was incredibly proud of Renly, and relished in the feel of his body against his own as they swayed in a circle comprised of their peers, open for judgment and yet not caring if they received it.

It was their last night together for a long while. Renly was off back to Storm’s End where he had hoped his brothers would not be, whilst Loras was going to Highgarden in the South, no doubt arriving just in time to be hauled off on a family vacation that would take him even further from Renly. And then Loras returned to university and Renly would move on. He was graduating in a few months, but had decided to forgo the ceremony, feeling it was a waste of time on everyone’s part.

Loras would have attended had he only asked.

“How do you think you did?” Renly asked after a time. He changed their position, arms going to loosely wrap around Loras’ shoulders so he could play with the curls that hung down on the back of his neck.

“I passed,” answered Loras, “but how _well_ I passed… up for debate.”

Loras could see Renly was trying not to make a face, but Loras had spent enough time with Renly to know when he was genuinely relaxed, and when he was trying to act casual but wanted nothing more than to scrunch his nose and make a disapproving sound.

“Please tell me the week we spent apart so you could study was not wasted. I don’t want that venture to be all in vain—I missed you, you know…”

Loras pouted, which caused Renly to pout, and the two were left swaying from side to side as some sappy love ballad played, pouting at one another.

“You know I don’t test well,” Loras said, “I studied all I could and I did my best—that should be worth a little praise, no?”

“Fine.” Renly sighed and pretended to be annoyed, but Loras could see the hint of a smile before their lips pressed together.

Eventually their dancing devolved into just standing together in the middle of the make-shift dance floor, chatting over the loud music and avoiding rogue elbows and stomping feet. Having had enough of the music and hating that he had to shout to get Renly’s attention, Loras dragged him off and away from the noise, the two venturing outside onto the stairs leading up to the front door.

Plunking himself down on one of the steps, Loras had an eerie sense of déjà vu as Renly sat on his left, a beer dangling from his grasp as he shamelessly defied the law and drank outside. It felt almost like the beginning of term, when they were just sitting for the first time, chatting for hours about random things that held no real significance except to convince one another that this was a good thing they had going on—that the link they were beginning to spin was worth twirling further.

“So… excited to go back home?” Renly asked after taking a long sip from his beer.

Loras was about to answer when someone walked down the steps right between them, muttering a drunken apology as he stumbled out on to the lawn.

“Maybe we should move?” Loras suggested, but was waved off by Renly as he scooted the short distance on the step to sit right beside Loras. Wrapping his arm around him, he tugged him in close under his arm, and kissed his temple roughly.

“Nonsense—they can just walk past me.”

Loras felt that familiar swell of pride again. Any time Renly freely showed his affection in public was like a little victory for the both of them, and Loras couldn’t help but beam and silently praise Renly for the courage he was showing. It was hard to believe that just a few months ago Renly was still insisting to Loras he was straight.

Renly’s question was complicated, however. He could have said that no—he wasn’t at all excited because Renly wouldn’t be there with him. He’d gotten used to Renly always being around; from the mornings when he woke up next to him, to the evenings where they bought take-away and watched British dramas as a way to break away from the drudges of university. But that would be a lie, because as much as he hated to admit it, Loras was beginning to get a little homesick. He’d decided to not go home for the holidays and instead hunker down with Renly for the winter, and therefore hadn’t seen his family in months.

For someone who pretty much lived for his family, it was a long time to go without them.

But explaining that to Renly was like trying to tell a chimpanzee that you are actually a distant relative of his. Family bonds and Renly just did not compute, especially now when Renly was facing spending a great deal of time with his brothers. So Loras settled on a generic answer in order to avoid any glum revelations just before they left each other for who knew how long.

“I’m excited to sleep in my own bed again—dorm life is a fucking load of horse shit. Next year I’m taking up my father’s offer of getting me a flat I can share with some of my mates,” he explained. For a second he’d thought maybe he and Renly could get a place together, but then remembered Renly was graduating. “But I’d much rather be in my own bed next to you. I’ll miss you loads when I’m back. Like, loads loads. More than I miss my footy magazine subscription, which is saying something.”

He took the playful hit to his shoulder well enough, laughing and batting Renly’s hand away as he attempted to ruffle his curls.

“I’m glad I rank higher than a football magazine,” Renly said, flicking Loras on the cheek when he had let his guard down.

“You know how much I’ll miss you,” Loras mumbled, serious this time. “I’m just trying not to think about it…”

Renly nodded, and Loras could see him deflate a little. “I’ll miss you too. I know I keep saying it, but I really will.” He was silent after that, his attention fixed ahead up at the starry sky. Loras let him have his moment, understanding when Renly was sorting through his thoughts—like a librarian in front of an index cabinet, trying to find out what went where. Finally he spoke again. “You know, it’s bizarre to feel homesickness for a person. I’ve never really missed anyone—not even my parents, because how can you miss something you never had? But with you I just get this dread in the pit of my stomach when I think I can’t see you again for months…”

“You could come visit me,” Loras said, trying not to look sympathetic. Renly hated it when Loras became sympathetic to what he dubbed his ‘Tiny Tim’ stories. He didn’t want sympathy for situations he couldn’t change; that was what he always said.

“I’ll think about it,” Renly said quickly. “I have to see Highgarden after all you’ve gone on about it.”

Loras nodded, pleased Renly had finally agreed to consider it. He knew he’d been nervous when Loras first proposed the idea of him visiting. Loras supposed he would technically be bringing Renly home to meet the parents, and for Renly, a boy who had grown up afraid of being gay due to the thought of rejection from parental figures, it was hard to wrap his head around the fact that Loras’ parents would actually be excited to meet him. The most judgement he’d receive from them would be on what sort of wine he liked and if he was any good at shooting clay pigeons.

“I’ll ring you up as soon as I’m back from my trip to Spain.” Kissing Renly slowly, Loras relaxed into the simple embrace that still made him feel butterflies in his stomach.

“Want to get out of here?” Renly asked when they parted. Loras knew that tone in his voice—he’d heard it far too often to forget it.

Smirking, Loras bit his bottom lip and nodded. “Sure. Your place or mine?”

“Mine—bed is still made up and everyone is off at their respective parties or partner’s place. We’ll have the house all to ourselves.”

“Does that mean there is no threat of Emmon walking in again?”

“None.”

“Royce?”

“He’s walked in twice, hasn’t he?”

“I think he likes me,” Loras said, and was pleased with the flash of jealousy in Renly’s expression.

XX

“Where’d you think you’d be at the end of term when you first started university?”

Loras rolled on to his side, his eyes still closed, and fumbled to find Renly’s shoulder, patting across his chest before feeling the familiar expanse of skin and bone. He couldn’t be bothered to open his eyes, the light from Renly’s bedside lamp irritating now that he was ready to sleep. Resting his head on Renly’s shoulder, he stuffed his nose against his neck.

Of course, after all of this he’d forgotten what Renly had asked.

“What?”

Renly sighed. Loras felt his arm wrap around his waist, and snuggled in closer as a finger began to trace patterns across his hip. He’d hated cuddling like this before he’d met Renly. He found it too stuffy and constraining being locked up against someone. Loras had liked his space.

_Had_ being the keyword.

Renly was starved for affection, years of going without the touch of a loved one, and Loras found he was more than willing to accommodate Renly’s needs.

“Did you figure this would be how your first year of university would turn out? What were you expecting when you started here?”

Loras was not one for deep talk in the middle of the night after a few beers and a shag. Renly was however. He was always up for a discussion.

“I dunno… I thought university was a load of drivel, to be honest,” he mumbled.

“You still think it’s a load of drivel.”

“Yeah, but a load of drivel with some merits. I’m not really an academic if you couldn’t tell.”

“You did fine in your biology courses?”

“Mm, because I know my anatomy.” Smirking, he trailed his hand down Renly’s stomach and dragged his fingers through the course curls at the base of his cock.

Renly let out a low rumble, but any attempt at distracting him from his Deep Late Night Discussion time was null, as he continued on as if nothing was going on under the blanket. “I really want to know, Loras. I want to know what you’d hoped for when you started out here.”

Sighing, Loras pulled his hand back up and opened his eyes, figuring he wasn’t going to get away with playing dead. Raising his head, he stared down at Renly, eyes narrowed. “If I tell you will you shut up and let me sleep?”

Renly nodded vigorously. It was a bit awkward given he was resting on a pillow, and Loras watched with fondness as his hair became even more mussed up.

“Fine,” he said. Kissing Renly quickly, he flopped down on to the bed on to his back, shoulder pressed tight against Renly’s. Staring up at the ceiling, he tried to think about what he thought the year would be like. He wasn’t one for reflection…

“I think I expected it to be like a Dead Poet’s Society sort of thing. Or maybe like Maurice, only I expected to jump from bloke to bloke and not fall in love with an academic who would eventually leave me for a woman.”

“So you thought you’d wear tweed and smoke cigars and discuss Plato’s Republic?”

“Well when you put it like that…”

Renly snorted and Loras hit his chest gently.

“I honestly don’t know what I expected. I thought I’d go to class, make some friends, maybe shag a bloke or two, and continue on my merry way. I was more concerned with my football team than anything else, really.” As he spoke, the memories of what he’d hoped to gain from his first year began to come back to him; the feeling of hesitant optimism but the adamant refusal to show it, lest his Gran latch on to it and make him admit that university wasn’t that bad; how he hoped to find a new partner, someone who wouldn’t push him to make decisions he didn’t want to make—at least not with him; and he hoped to accomplish something. He didn’t know what he wanted to accomplish, but he wanted to start and finish something he could be proud of. It was all about the pride and the glory.

“You’ve gone quiet. Are you asleep?”

“No, just thinking about what I expected.”

Renly rolled on to his side, jostling the bed as he did so. “So… was this year everything you expected?”

Loras stared up at Renly and admired the way the light played off the strong features of his face. From the long, straight nose to the curve of his lips; the cut of his jaw and the permanent shadow that covered it and made Loras’ lips tickle in a pleasant way; and finally, the deep blue eyes that always held such tenderness and love in them whenever Renly looked at him. Eyes that Loras had fallen into the moment they’d first met.

Renly was the optimism Loras had been feeling, the partner who never pushed but made him change in subtle ways, and the accomplishment he could be proud of.

“Everything and that much more,” he said. Pulling Renly down, he kissed him deeply, trying to pour all of his love into that single embrace—hoping that Renly knew just how good for him he was, and how much he’d helped Loras, even when he thought he’d only complicated his life. They’d both come so far—changed so much.

When they parted, both were flushed and breathing heavily, and all thoughts of sleeping left.

“Bugger getting a good night’s rest,” Loras said, hooking his legs around Renly’s hips. “How about another round?”

Renly grinned and ground down and against Loras. “Give me something to remember whilst I’m locked in a tower away from you, my sweet knight.”

It appeared the third mark on the list was right; university changes you. Lucky for Loras and Renly, it was for the better.

XX

When Loras was little he’d suffered from terrible homesickness. Just a simple night-over at his friend’s house had him feel sick and longing for home. It wasn’t until he’d been sent off to football camp when he was eleven that he finally worked through his attachment to home, and found that instead of longing to return, he couldn’t wait to go on another adventure, away from the control of his parents and off gallivanting with his friends.

Parting from Renly, however, was the first time Loras felt that familiar gut-clench in the last eight years.

He held on to him at the doorway of his dorm, the packed boxes a reminder that they were finally parting. They’d tried to drag the morning on for as long as possible, Loras faking being asleep that much longer so he could stay in Renly’s arms.

But eventually they had to be on the move. Loras was driving down south back to London, while Renly was headed further north and near the coast—the two separated geographically on an island that wasn’t all that big. But it felt vast to Loras…

“I’m going to miss you,” Loras said. He was holding on to Renly tightly whilst Renly gently rubbed his back.

“I’m going to miss you, too.”

“Promise me you’ll call me when you get home, yeah?”

“You’ll probably still be on the road,” Renly suggested. Pulling away, Loras nuzzled Renly’s hand as it came up to cup his cheek. “I’ll text you and you can reply at your leisure.”

“Just tell me you’ll be okay back home?”

Renly nodded, though Loras could tell he was getting annoyed with his constant need to be reassured he’d be fine. It was just, after months of being told how horrible Renly’s home life had been, Loras had begun to worry about him returning—even if he was now twenty-four, a graduate with a Bachelors in Political Science, and not a young child who had very little companionship and two brothers who Loras gathered were self-centered twats.

He just wished Renly had agreed to come with him to Highgarden right away. Loras would have given up his vacation to Spain had Renly just asked.

“I’ll be _fine_ ,” Renly said, kissing Loras’ forehead. Loras would have batted him away had he not been so desperate for even the most patronizing of affection. “My brothers won’t even be home.”

Loras didn’t want to remind Renly that he’d once called Storm’s End a tomb for his dead family. Instead he just nodded, fighting the urge to go into what Renly called his ‘Knight in Shining Armour’ mode, in where he tried to fight Renly’s inner-dragons for him.

“Still… when you feel up to it, come and visit, yeah?” he said, hopeful Renly would eventually agree. He’d been hesitant to completely commit beyond saying he had thought about it.

“Definitely. We need to see each other as often as possible.” Renly’s hands began to wander then, groping Loras shamelessly, which he basked in. He couldn’t imagine going more than a week without even a kiss from Renly.

Kissing Renly deeply, Loras poured in all of his emotions into that single embrace, wanting to get rid of them so he could stop thinking about Renly and how much he’d miss him. It didn’t work. As soon as they’d pulled away he felt the same, just with bruised lips that tingled.

“I love you,” Renly said, knocking their foreheads together.

They’d said ‘I love you’ to one another hundreds of times since the first fateful incident, but Loras always felt that familiar spike of pleasure anytime he said it. It felt new each time; like they meant every syllable. Renly had been the first to say it, Loras wanting him to come to terms with it and be comfortable before he made any mention of it. He’d been in love with Renly for some time, cherishing the new found feeling like a precious stone, but was content to wait until Renly too had the same calm he had when thinking about their feelings toward one another.

Eventually, after a night of celebratory pub crawling after their fall exams were done, Renly said he loved Loras whilst they were tangled up on the floor of Renly’s room, sticky, breathing heavily, and slightly drunk. Not romantic, nor very tasteful, but it was perfect for Loras. The strength in Renly’s voice when he said it reassured Loras that they were on the same page, and he replied in turn, along with a sloppy kiss that tasted of wheat beer.

And since then, every ‘I love you’ was cherished along with the first.

“I love you, too,” Loras said, kissing Renly quickly. When they parted for what seemed like the seventeenth time, Loras soaked in Renly’s charming little smile and messy hair one last time, before grabbing his overnight bag and walking out the door.

“Remember to text,” Renly called as Loras headed to the steps, “and try not to miss me too much!”

Turning round at the top step, Loras rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out. “Try not to flatter yourself too much, Ren.”

“You two are so sickening,” Emmon could be heard saying from his bedroom across the way.

Loras would miss this place. But he had the most valuable part with him wherever he went, because Renly would always be in his heart.

Emmon had a point about the sickening bit.


	7. Best Friends, Boyfriends, and Brothers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors Note: Second last chapter! We're on the home stretch!

Storm’s End was always cold.

No matter the season, Renly always felt chilled when he visited his childhood estate. It was like someone had hung a curtain of moisture right in front of the house for everyone to walk through, the cold creeping into your clothing and biting its way on to your skin. Renly supposed he could blame the ocean for the weather, but that was just a part of it. The rest came from the old, gothic architecture with the solid, lichen coated dark grey stone, the creeping vines that blocked the windows and let no light in, and the heavy wooden door that screamed when you opened it, and shouted when you closed it.

It did not help that the house hadn’t changed much since his parent’s occupied it. It felt like a tomb to Renly. Musty and covered in dust, with old photographs lining the walls, telling of events he’d never experienced and people he’d not the pleasure to meet. It was depressing, in a word. Depressing and cold.

But, blessedly, empty.

It appeared Robert and Stannis were at their actual homes with their actual wives and their actual families, rather than hanging out in a stuffy old estate with a brother they consistently forgot about. Which Renly was grateful for. Taking the steps to his room two at a time, a bag over his shoulder and a car stuffed with other goods he couldn’t be bothered with fetching just yet, Renly opened his door and was met with the only space he’d ever managed to make his own.

It was the same as exactly how he’d left it before he left for his last term of university—just a little more dusty and cold than before. Dropping his bag on the bed, he watched a plume of dust fly up into the air, and batted away the cloud, pulling a face.

“Where the hell has the maid been?” he mumbled out loud as he shuffled through his bag in search of his mobile charger. They had one maid at Storm’s End, as well as one gardener. The place needed at least three maids to keep the house remotely clean, and four gardeners maximum. Robert didn’t think they were worth the cost, however, and only kept two staff on hand. After all, no one live here, right?

Pulling out the charger, Renly immediately plugged it into the wall and began to charge his mobile, desperate to have it live once more so he could text Loras. As soon as it was on he shot of a text, hoping for a reply soon but knowing he’d probably have to wait a while—Loras was getting home today, too.

‘ _Home with no one around. Hope you had a good trip :) :) :)_ ”

The smiley faces were a bit excessive, but Renly didn’t want to worry Loras by making him think he was all alone and _lonely_. He’d seen the badly hidden ‘looks’ Loras had been sending him for the past month whenever he brought up going home—looks that screamed to Renly that his home life was not normal and he shouldn’t be happy nor fine with it. But there wasn’t anything Loras could do about it, and he didn’t want to worry him anymore than he already was about the entire situation.

Besides, it wasn’t as if Renly was without friends—he got more from seeing his friends than he ever did from visiting with his brothers. He wasn’t going to be entirely alone. But trying to explain that to Loras was like trying to tell a chimpanzee you were a distant relative of his. Loras believed happiness lay with a solid, stable family.

He began to unpack, but was pleasantly surprised when his phone began to buzz, alerting him of a text. Picking up his phone, he glanced at the screen and saw it was from Loras.

_‘Not home yet. At a petrol station filling up. Miss you already xx’_

That simple message made Renly’s heart swell a bit, and he could feel a silly grin lay claim to his mouth. He hadn’t had someone miss him, nor send him adorable kisses at the end of a text. It was silly and juvenile and a little bit girly, but Renly didn’t care. He had a boyfriend—a boyfriend who _missed him_.

XX

“You seem happy.”

Looking up from the sand that he wiggled between his toes, Renly turned to Brienne and quirked a brow. “I seem happy?”

She pushed her hair behind her ear only to have the wind blow it back in her eyes. “You look happy for a change. Usually when I come visit you’re so… I don’t know. Glum?”

“I don’t think I was glum,” he said, shifting on the log they were sitting on. The wood was starting to dig into his ass. “More… resolved. About seeing my brothers, mostly.”

One of Renly’s rituals when he came back to Storm’s End was to catch up with Brienne. She lived across the way on a small island during the summer, staying at her family cottage with her father. The two had found one another as children, Brienne wandering the beach alone whilst Renly had run away from home for the second time that week, hoping someone would notice he was missing. They never did.

But since that fateful meeting the two had met up every summer to wander the beaches together, explore the beach caverns and play pretend, where Brienne was a knight and Renly was a lord. Brienne was tall and lanky, and a bit socially awkward at times, but Renly had found easy companionship with her. He believed she was his first real, true friend who was actually his age. She was the first to learn about Renly’s upbringing, and the first to try and do something about it. She’d tried to steal him away one summer when he was ten and she was seven. They’d run off into the town and tried to buy a bus ticket with the changed she’d saved up from doing chores. They were, of course, abruptly sent home, and Brienne was grounded for a week.

Robert hadn’t cared, but it had been the first time Renly had seen Stannis genuinely worried. Coming through that door, although at the side of a police officer, had been the first time Renly ever felt like he’d been missed. At the time he’d thought it just because Stannis didn’t want to be in trouble with the police for losing his little brother, but with time, Renly lulled into the fantasy that he was genuinely concerned. He never bothered to ask, fearing for the response. Still, Brienne had, unintentionally, brought a bit of optimism to Renly and his home life. Just before Robert moved away for good.

Things had become awkward when both of them hit puberty. Brienne’s obvious crush on him became apparent the older she got, blushing anytime he so much as looked her way, and had Renly been a cruel boy he’d have toyed with her feelings. Instead they came to an easy agreement—their friendship wasn’t worth ruining. Renly could tell he was happier with the agreement than Brienne could ever be, but he had hoped with time she’d grow out of the crush.

Years later and it hadn’t happened yet. Still, she remained at his side.

“My brothers aren’t at Storm’s End—that’s something to be happy about, no?” he continued after a moment of thought. Brienne was making it sound like he glowed like some pregnant woman.

“That’s not it—although I’m glad for that. I mean, I’m glad you don’t have to deal with your brothers. I’m just wondering… did something happen while you were off at university?” she asked, peering up at the sky a moment as a gull came dangerously close to dropping some old chips on them.

Renly looked down at his toes again, wiggling his feet into the sand so that they were mostly covered. He’d hoped to have held this conversation off for perhaps their second or third day together—maybe tell her the news over a platter of something delicious. Remarkably, it wasn’t the fact that he was seeing a bloke that made him so worried; it was that he was seeing someone in general. Brienne’s crush was still present, lurking beneath her gigantic blue eyes anytime she looked at him. Renly loathed breaking her heart, even if deep down he knew that she knew he wasn’t interested. It was a hopeless crush, but Renly coddled it all the same. And his stint with Royce had cured him of coming out to his friends, believing anything anyone else had to say couldn’t be nearly as out-there as his words. Besides, Renly never once felt that Brienne would judge someone for their sexuality.

No, for a change this wasn’t about Renly not wanting to be hurt—it was all about Brienne.

“Yeah, something did happen…” He trailed off. He was close to making up a lie—maybe say he was just so happy to have graduated—but looking at Brienne stopped that train of thought. She was his best friend; she deserved the truth. “I met someone.”

He looked away before he could see the hurt in her eyes. Staring out at the ocean, he let her digest the information, convincing himself he was giving her the dignity of not peering at her.

Finally she spoke. “Oh… how long?”

“September… we started seeing each other in September.”

“Right at the start of term?”

Renly nodded. Finally he decided to look at her. He expected hurt, distrust, maybe even jealousy. She looked more resigned—like she’d expected it but still held out hope. Her shoulders had sagged, and despite her size she looked small.

But she was smiling. Tightly. But there was still a smile.

“Yeah. We met at a party,” he explained. He wasn’t sure that if he got to talking about Loras he’d be able to stop the smile that always tugged at his lips from coming. He didn’t want to hurt Brienne by being so _happy_.

“What’s her name?”

Renly had forgotten about that part. He’d been used to being ‘out’ with his university mates, that it was almost odd to think he’d just recently come out to everyone. Well—almost everyone.

Biting his bottom lip, he sucked it in before letting it slip out, trying to decide on how to best approach it. “Loras,” he eventually said.

“That’s a pretty name—never heard of a girl named Loras. Do you have a photo?”

Oh god. He hadn’t expected it to go like that. He tried to do the metaphorical backpedal, but he got his foot stuck in the proverbial chain and yanked too hard. “Loras isn’t—I mean… yeah, I’ve got a photo.” Maybe showing Brienne a photo of Loras would help to explain things. Loras could rightly be described pretty, but he couldn’t be mistaken for a woman. He was _man_ pretty.

Pulling his mobile out of his back pocket (and relieving his ass of the pesky poke), he flipped through the photos on the gallery, looking for one that wasn’t _too_ intimate. No need to show Brienne a photo of their many lazy mornings together, nor Loras’ lack of a gag reflex.

Finally he found one of Loras sitting on a bench in late fall, and couldn’t help but feel the peace he’d felt the day the photo had been taken. He had snapped the picture shortly after he’d come out to the rest of his roommates, the freedom to embrace Loras fully as his partner and his lover foreign and therefore something he would cherish. He’d taken what seemed like hundreds of photos of Loras in just a few short days, mad with the power to express who he really was. It was almost like a drug, and Loras was his supplier.

The particular photo he was about to show Brienne was Renly’s favourite. They’d wandered around the campus on a bitter Monday evening, bundled up in their jackets and scarves and sharing warmth by linking arms. Eventually they’d sat on a bench close to Loras’ dorm, and as the sun set the sky light up like a flame. Dark golden hues shone across the park, elongating shadows and highlighting streetlamps and windowpanes. But the true beauty lay in how the light swept across Loras, painting him in gold like a Renaissance portrait. Light bounced off his curls giving him a halo effect, and there was a glow to his skin and a pink tint to his cheeks and the tip of his nose. He was slightly turned from Renly, staring at a duck as it waddled in the grass by a pond, but Renly had managed to catch the glint in his hazel eyes that spoke of uncharacteristic calm and serenity.

Passing the photo over to Brienne, Renly literally held his breath and waited for what would inevitably be an awkward, uncomfortable next couple of minutes. He tried to read her face as she looked at the photo, but her usually expressive eyes had been covered by her hair as the wind from the ocean whipped around them. Sitting, perched on the log and with his feet going numb in the sand, Renly squeezed his hands together and pondered the merits of telling her what a great bloke Loras was, and if that would make things easier or harder on her.

It was taking too long for her to reply, however. Renly felt like she’d been staring at the screen for hours, writing up in her head multiple ways in which to tell him to bugger off. In reality it had only been a few seconds, but Renly didn’t want to wait any longer for her to collect herself, and rushed right in to defending Loras and his choices.

“He’s really great,” Renly began, sounding ridiculously hopeful even in his head. He felt like he was telling Brienne about Loras to his mother, which he knew was an appalling thought for both of them but there it was. Brienne mattered more than most people’s opinion of him, and he wanted her to support him in this. “I know I should have told you sooner, but I wanted to tell you in person. Or at least, not over a quick email or a text message.”

“He’s…” Started Brienne, before trailing off. Renly leaned forward and peered across at her, clinging to the dot dot dot at the end of her words. The screen on the phone went black, and that seemed to bring her back to the present. Passing it back, their eyes locked as their fingers touched, and Renly hoped to see a smile or something reassuring. She just looked a bit… confused.

“He’s very pretty. Or handsome. He’s attractive,” she settled on. “He does—I mean, you met at university?”

They’d been over that part. It worried Renly she’d forgotten. “Yeah, we met at a party… and he is very attractive. And he’s really very nice—he’s helped me a lot. I think you two would get along.”

That was a lie. Brienne was sweet but a little awkward and needed a special sort of touch to get her to open up. Loras was not very good at that sort of thing. He barreled right into social situations and just went with it, not slowing down or waiting for you to catch up. He expected a lot from a person, their first impressions counting for everything. Although Renly loved him, he sort of wish he’d give people that second chance now and again. Brienne was never very good at first impressions.

She nodded and smiled at Renly. “I’m happy for you.”

Renly knew she wasn’t—not completely. “You’re not upset?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m not. I mean… a bit disappointed you never told me, and that you kept from me the fact that you fancied men, but… I guess I can see why.”

Brienne was a jewel in Renly’s eyes. A glittering jewel he ought to have treasured more. For all his faults she’d stuck around, protecting him through the perils of growing up. He’d been a fool to think he’d have no one if he came out—he’d _always_ have Brienne.

Grabbing her, he hugged her, his hand tangling in her hair. “I love you, you know that, right?”

“I know. I… I love you, too.”

Her hug became that much tighter, and Renly let her squeeze.

When they broke apart, Renly saw she’d begun to tear up, but the smile was still there. She tried to hide it, but Renly got to the tear first, brushing it away with the pad of his thumb.

“I’m sorry I never told you. I was just afraid, I suppose. I hadn’t even accepted it inside myself until recently. I was so muddled for so long, you know? I didn’t know what to think or how to feel, and I kept pushing it down until I didn’t think I could feel it anymore. I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t even admit it to myself.”

Brienne nodded, and reached up to take Renly’s hand in her own. Her hands were strong and course, her rowing from the island to the mainland already creating callouses on her hands. Renly always said she had workers hands that spoke of strength and dignity and pride. She’d laughed at him, but he’d caught her admiring her hands later that day as they rested on her lap.

“Loras helped me to understand this about me,” he continued. “I just saw him and everything clicked, you know? He just made me feel like nothing else. I couldn’t deny those feelings.”

“I understand,” she said. Renly believed her. She really did understand.

XX

Smells held memories.

For Renly, certain scents had very particular remembrances, most of which were fairly monotonous and uninteresting. The smell of fresh mown lawn brought back memories of summer and running around outside all day till dusk. The scent of the ocean made him think of being home, for better or for worse. Roses made Renly think of Loras, and how he insisted that the shampoo he used was because it was what his mother had always bought him, and not because he liked it (Renly knew better).

Cigar smoke, however… cigar smoke made him think of one person. And it made him nauseous.

It had been a month and a half of bliss back at Storm’s End. With the freedom to choose where to go and who to see what with no university due dates looming over him, he visited friends and spent most of his time out of the house, wandering about the seaside and enjoying a pint with Brienne and Emmon, who was visiting his Gran. The only time he was really home was to sleep, bathe, and have the daily skype chat with Loras (that sometimes evolved into a skype wank with Loras).

But although he was rarely home, that did not mean Renly hadn’t enjoyed having the space to himself. It was his home when he was there—no one else could come in without his permission.

Except for Robert.

When he’d come home after a day of beach volleyball, sore but content, he was hit with a wall of cigar smoke. Heavy, musky, disgustingly clingy cigar smoke. It made his stomach churn and his heart beat a little faster, and he knew there was only one person who could have possibly brought that smell with them.

The light in the house was coming from the kitchen, the long rays of the blinding light spilling out across the hallway, lighting up his dead parents’ faces and false smiling family photographs from his youth. Walking down the hallway, he heard shuffling around inside the room, the clink of cutlery and the opening of the fridge. Renly hoped it was a robber looking for a snack, but as he stepped in through the doorway, he was met with a most unpleasant sight.

It wasn’t as if Robert was doing anything particularly obscene—he was just standing there—but just his presence was unpleasant to Renly. Back turned to him, Robert was washing his dishes (a surprise), curls of smoke wafting up and around. Renly wondered what mixing cigar with a cheese sandwich tasted like.

He briefly toyed with the thought of wandering upstairs and going to bed, hoping that Robert would leave in the morning and having eaten all the cookies, much like Santa (he was big enough to be Santa, and the red-nose from his drinking helped the image), but decided to make his presence known, just in case Robert decided to stay for too long. Renly had a way of making Stannis and Robert leave.

“Look what the lion dragged in,” he drawled out. Not original, but it worked, Robert glancing over his shoulder to peer across the kitchen table at Renly.

Robert grunted and wiped his hands off on the towel. Pulling the cigar from his mouth, he chewed a bit on the tip. “I finished off the bread.”

Rolling his eyes, Renly entered the kitchen and sat down at the table, lounging casually. “Thanks—not like I needed that for my morning toast. It’s nice to see you, by the way.”

Robert grunted again. “You never ate breakfast.”

“I’m surprised you remembered that.”

“I got a letter from your principal when you were a kid, complaining about how you weren’t getting three meals a day.”

“So you remember because you got in trouble for it?”

Robert didn’t reply, and shoved his cigar back in his mouth. “Cersei’s father is in town and staying at our house—says he hates hotels,” he said over the cigarette.

Sighing, Renly ran a hand through his hair and slunk further into the chair, feet kicked out casually in front of him. If there was one thing that caused Robert panic, it was seeing Tywin Lannister in the flesh. Renly couldn’t blame him—that man had dead-eyes. Still, he wouldn’t support Robert running off to hide (even if he knew he’d have done the same). “So… you just thought you could come here and relax for a few days? Perish the thought you’d actually do something with your family.”

“Sod off,” Robert said. He didn’t linger after that, and headed straight for what Renly assumed was the liquor cabinet in their father’s old office.

“Well that was pleasant,” he mumbled to himself.

It was only when Renly was in the privacy of his bedroom, secluded in the East wing and far away from Robert, that he realised just how shaken he’d been to see him. The past year had been bliss, the thoughts of his brothers slowly melting away as a new, loving support system was built under him. He hadn’t lived the last ten months resentful and bitter and lonely. He hadn’t thought of his brothers like he used to—fearing their rejection and seeing them as his only family.

But seeing Robert, hearing his voice and smelling that familiar cigar smoke, brought everything back for a brief moment. For a second—just a second—he felt like the last year hadn’t happened, and he was right back where he started. It wasn’t long, but that doubt was still there, lingering on him like a cobweb.

He had to call Loras.

It wasn’t until he saw Loras on the screen of his laptop that he could smile again.

“Hey, babe. What’s up?” Loras asked. He was all wet, Renly realised. Wet and not wearing a shirt. He’d tanned whilst off in Spain, and had a beautiful cinnamon colour to his skin, and his hair had bleached in the sun, making him look blond rather than a brunette.

It was distracting and everything Renly needed.

“Did you just get out of the shower?” he asked.

Loras nodded. “I just got back from footy practice and desperately needed a shower. The ones at the club are down for maintenance—a waterline broke the other day. Bloody shoddy construction if you ask me; they just rebuilt the place a few years back.”

“Are you wearing any trousers?”

Loras smirked and tilted his head to the side. “No.”

“What about underpants?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know…”

“Tease.” Renly couldn’t complain. For some reason just the thought of Loras being naked was a turn on.

“So why’d you call me so early? I thought we had a Skype date planned for eight.”

And suddenly Renly’s erection was dead.

“My brother is here.”

Loras’ smile dropped, and he pegged Renly with a sympathy laser-beam. “Which brother?”

“Robert. The fat one.”

“I know who Robert Baratheon is, but thank you for that detailed description.”

“Well he’s here. And he ate all the bread.” Renly had no idea where his priorities were that night. He’d blame Robert for that, too.

Loras laughed, a soft chuckle that made Renly smile despite himself. “It’s good you’re keeping things in perspective.”

“You know me—always level headed.”

“So… Robert is back… how does this make you feel?” Loras asked as he played with a pen, clicking the end over and over.

“Please don’t psychoanalyze me when you’re naked,” Renly replied. “It’s bizarre.”

“Sorry.” Dropping the pen, Loras leaned back in his office chair, giving Renly a nice view of his chest and muscles. “Would it help if I put on trousers?”

“No, it would make it worse because then you wouldn’t be naked” Renly said. Sighing, he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his desk. Running his hands over his face, he let out another sigh that quickly turned into a loud groan. “I feel a bit like the bogey man has come back,” he said, lifting his head to stare at Loras on the screen. He wished he could touch him right now—press his face in the crook of his neck and smell the sun on his skin. Instead he still smelt that cigar.

“Well did he say anything? Do anything?” Loras asked. He looked like a sad kitten and Renly could tell he was thinking the same thing Renly was. If he could just touch him…

“No, he just did his usual thing. _We_ did our usual thing—snide remarks and general unpleasantness. It isn’t as if I can’t be in the same room as him or have a civil conversation with him, but I don’t want to be in the same room with him. This is my estate—Robert and Stannis abandoned it long ago. I should decide who comes in and who stays out.”

Loras just nodded. He did that a lot when Renly ranted like this. Didn’t say anything and just let Renly talk it out. Renly _talked_ —it was what he did with most everything. Talked through his troubles; talked through stressful situations; even talked through sex sometimes. Loras hit things, but understood Renly’s political nature.

“It’s petty, I know, but I don’t want him here. With him here I just remember everything that had me so fucked up before. It’s like I’m twelve again and pretending I wasn’t looking at a Calvin Klein ad longer than I should have.” Renly knew this was pitiful and desperate and completely unbecoming, but there it was. “Everything I worked hard on—this not caring about my brothers or my legacy or the Baratheon name… it just feels like I’ve gone and undone it all by being so bloody angry about just seeing my brother.”

“Maybe you should get out of there?”

“That would be admitting defeat,” Renly said, completely serious. If he left now, he’d admit to Robert that he wasn’t happy with him being present. He’d admit to being the petty tit that he was. “Besides, I’ve nowhere to go.”

“Come to Highgarden with me,” Loras simply said. “We talked about you coming to visit for a few weeks, your birthday is soon which gives you the perfect excuse… not to mention, I told my parents and they’ve given in and will let you and I share my room.” He grinned triumphantly, proud and puffed up like a peacock.

“Maybe…”

Loras almost literally deflated right in front of Renly. He looked less like a puffed up peacock and more a bedraggled kitten all over again. “Why maybe? You’d get to spend weeks in my bed shagging me and eating prepared food from the estates chef. You can roll around in the roses and skip and I dunno, do whatever you please!”

Renly tried not to pull a face, but the way Loras’ eyes narrowed, he realised he’d made ‘a face’. In a rush, he tried to explain why he was so hesitant to go to paradise. “Are you sure you want to take me to meet your parents? And your siblings? And your _gran_?”

“Well why not?” Loras asked.

“They’re your family, Loras. You know; the people you practically worship. My god, you talk about them like they’re the most perfect, beautiful people in the world—above all others in every single way. How can I live up to their expectations? You keep making them sound so good and I don’t want to muck it all up. I’m Renly _Baratheon_ ; kid with no semblance of family ever. How am I supposed to—to _family_?”

“So you… don’t want to meet my family?” Loras asked slowly.

Renly shook his head. “No, I _want_ to meet them, but I don’t think I’m _ready_ …”

Loras didn’t seem convinced. “Right… okay. Well… offer is going to be on the table for a while. You ever feel like you want to come see me, just tell me and we’ll sort something out.”

“You’re too patient, you know that?” Renly asked.

Immediately Loras began to laugh, and Renly began to feel good again.

“I’m not usually patient,” Loras explained after he’d stopped chuckling. “I’ve actually freaked Margaery out with how patient I am with you. She still remembers the time I tried to push our family’s broken car to the mechanic when I was seven because I couldn’t be arsed to wait for the tow truck.”

The image of a little cherub Loras trying to push an entire car was too much for Renly, and he let out a cackle, clasping his hands together in glee. “God, Loras—I fucking love you.”

Loras shrugged and smiled. “Love me enough to make my sitting in the nude worthwhile?”

Renly immediately stopped laughing as his cock twitched in his pants. Clearing his throat, he glanced over his shoulder at his door before getting up, holding his finger up to Loras as he hurried to the door. Jiggling the handle, he made sure he’d locked before turning back around just in time to see Loras rolling his office chair back a touch to show Renly just how naked he was.

Calling Loras had definitely been a good idea.


	8. Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors Note: It is the end! I hope you all enjoyed the story! I want to thank you all for the awesome feedback as well as for reading! Really means a lot to me that you guys enjoy some of the stuff I create.
> 
> Speaking of, I have another (much longer) story in the works that you all should keep an eye out for. It's a Zombie AU, following our two lovably dorks on their adventures trying to survive a zombie apocalypse. I make it sound a bit lighthearted, but this story is going to be darker than anything I have written before. Lots of cameos from other ASOIAF characters, with lots of action, some steamy sex scenes, and some of my trademark humour. Hope you all take a gander when I post it up!

Renly had become quite good at avoiding over the years. Avoiding too much responsibility; avoiding his feelings; avoiding family duties; avoiding one of his professors whom he’d told off at the end of term—he’d become good at it. The last time he’d been with Stannis for longer than a few hours was at his wedding where, unfortunately for both of them, Renly was part of the wedding party (it would have looked odd if both of his brothers were left out of the festivities—Renly used the term ‘festivities’ loosely, mind you). Since that fateful day years ago, Renly had seen him at a variety of functions but never for an extended period of time.

Robert was seen more frequently, but Renly had managed to keep the increments of time they spent together under an hour. An hour was fine—an hour could be spent sharing a drink (three in Robert’s case), gossiping about how much they both hated the Lannisters, before they started to become uncomfortable in the comfort they’d found just relaxing together, and one or the other wandered off before things could turn sour.

It seemed he’d lost the ability to avoid, however.

He’d run into Robert over the last few days more than he’d cared to. He had tried to spend as little time at Storm’s End as possible, but the weather had turned sour and most of his friends had buggered off to someplace warmer. That left him spending too much time at the local coffee shop with a large mug of tea, staring out the window wishing Loras were with him, before having a miserable wet and cold walk home where he was greeted with cigar smoke, the stench of brandy, and some god awful television show about little peoples living in a ‘big world’—as if Robert didn’t have enough trouble communicating with his brother-in-law as it stood.

Things were getting tense. It wasn’t as if Renly was stuck in the same room with him for an extended period of time—their house, whilst not as large nor as ground as some other estates in the area, was still fairly large—but it was just knowing Robert was in the house, using _Renly’s_ home as a way to avoid his family, that really pissed Renly off.

“So when are you going to just piss off?” Renly asked casually as he leaned against the doorframe.

Robert grunted and looked away from the telly eventually, his brow quirked. He had a glass of something in one hand and a cigar in the other, and he looked like he should be done with both. But the night was still young and there was some recognition in this glazed over eyes. “Piss off, Renly. The Lannisters will be gone in a day and then you can have your precious house all to yourself again.”

Renly should have just left it. He really should have just gone back up to his room, blasted a favourite CD of his, and danced until he was too exhausted to care. Or, better yet, go back out to a local pub and get utterly smashed. But then he’d be too much like his brother in that regard, and it made him more uncomfortable.

He didn’t want to be like this brother; he didn’t want to look like _this_. Everyone always said how similar he was to Robert—how they had the same eyes and the same strength and the same bloody smile. Even the same voice someone had said when he’d answered the phone in Robert’s stead. It made him feel even more nauseous to know that people related Renly to… to this. This abusive, angry, bigoted, drunken little man.

Although he supposed little wasn’t really an apt descriptor anymore.

“Are you going to actually do anything here? I mean, maybe clean up and not leave your mess all over the place?” he asked. Entering the living room, he went and opened a window, letting the cigar smoke float out.

“Why would I?”

“I dunno, maybe because you’re leaving my house in a state of completely and utter disrepair. You know it took me six months to get this stench out the last time.”

Robert rolled his eyes and shifted in his chair. The alcohol in his glass was almost empty, and sloshed around at the bottom. He wondered how many Robert had had already. “It’s not your home, Renly. I don’t remember handing the property rights over to you.”

“You should,” he said quickly. “I’m the only one who visits this tomb anymore.”

Robert’s eyes narrowed and he looked over at Renly for the first time. “Our childhood home is not a tomb, Renly.”

“Could have fooled me,” he mumbled. Turning back around he began to fiddle with the alcohol tray, noting that most of the ice in the bucket had begun to melt. Robert wasn’t taking any of the bait Renly was throwing out there. He wanted to fight or something; get Robert to get so pissed off that the prospect of sitting with Tywin won out over his dislike for Renly. He just didn’t want Robert in his house and in his space and in his life. He had been moving on; he had been building a new family. But with Robert around he felt like that awful, confused, scared teenage he’d been before he went off to University. He felt like a useless man who couldn’t even tell the world he loved another man.

He felt like shit.

And he wanted the cause of all of that _out of his fucking life._

He chuckled mirthlessly. The whole entire reason he had been hiding his sexuality was to fit in with his brothers; to get rid of the fear and the anxiety of being abandoned. Because being alone in a crowd was better than being completely alone. At least he always had Robert and Stannis was what he told himself. But really, what good was Robert? Why did he cling to him?

Why was he still clinging to him? He wanted him out of his life and yet hesitated when it came to actually cutting the cord.

“Move.”

Robert had come up behind him and gently shoved him out of the way of the tray. He put his glass down and closed up the ice tray. He turned to look at Renly. He was as tall as Renly but wider now; a lot wider. His eyes were the same dark blue but held none of the softness nor the hope Renly’s did. His beard looked unkempt and his closed mussed and smelling of smoke and scotch.

He thought of Loras then. The smell of his skin; always so fresh and light, lemon and roses and mint mixing with his own heady musk. His hair, always a bit tangled but curly and soft to the touch, like liquid gold sliding through his hands, a treasure only for him. And he thought of his eyes, green with flecks of brown in them, bright and alive and holding so much love for Renly.

Renly thought of his real family, and began to cut the cord.

“I met someone,” he said quickly. He sounded unsure and mentally scolded himself. He had to be strong about this; he was revealing what he’d kept secret for so long. Robert wouldn’t hold back when he finally told him.

“That’s great,” Robert said. He didn’t sound interested and picked up a bottle of old vodka. “You shagged her yet?”

“Yes. Many times,” he said. Lifting his chin he took a deep breath before, “And it’s a man, actually. I fuck men. I’m gay.”

He wondered if he actually said anything. Robert didn’t respond; didn’t even hesitate adding the vodka to his glass. There was no movement out of the ordinary. None at all.

No bloody reaction save for the dumping of cigar ash on the ashtray.

“Did you hear me?” Renly asked loudly. “Did you hear what I just said?” He moved to stand in front of the tray, making it so Robert had to look at him. “I fuck men, Robert. I fall in love with men. I’m gay. A poof. A homosexual. Someone who likes cock up the ass.”

Still no reaction. Robert just turned around and put his drink on the coaster on the armrest and sat back down, returning to his show. The white and blue light of the television brought out the bags under his eyes and the redness to his nose.

This was too much. It was all too much. He didn’t wait around for the response that would never come—couldn’t stand knowing for sure that his brother never cared and never would care. It wasn’t sure if he was more upset by the fact that Robert didn’t care about anything to do with Renly—for good or for worse—or that he didn’t care and Renly had wasted his entire youth in constant fear and paranoia that he’d be disowned for something Robert wouldn’t take the time to respond to.

He turned and left, almost running into the door on his way out. Gripping the handle, he yanked it hard, slamming the door shut, causing the hinges to literally loosen in the wall, the top corner of the door creaking loudly along with the groan of the walls.

That was Baratheon fury for you.

Because when it came down to it, Renly would always be a Baratheon. He would always be tired to those bastards and couldn’t, no matter how hard he tried, get away from them—their legacy and their behaviour and their genetics. Everything about Renly was a Baratheon. They were his family and he fucking hated it. They made him feel dirty and trapped, like he’d never amount to anything more than what his brothers had become.

He was sick of being reminded how much his brothers’ opinions mattered to him. Sick of being reminded that he cared no matter how many times he’d told himself that he didn’t. He didn’t need them and yet it fucking hurt when he was reminded that they didn’t need him, either. Robert and Stannis never needed him. Never valued him or wanted him around. They didn’t care yet Renly deluded himself into thinking they did, changing who he was all for the small glimmer of hope that he wouldn’t be abandoned or forgotten.

Charging into his room, he slammed that door closed too, before he did something monumentally stupid. He punched the wall.

The walls were stone by had been covered in plaster long ago. Hard plaster—almost as hard as the stone they were covering. He’d managed to make a dent, however, cracks appearing around his knuckles, jutting out like little lightning bolts. Immediately his hand began to scream out in pain, shooting from his knuckles to his wrist, and all the way up to his shoulder.

Biting down on the inside of his cheek, he breathed heavily through his nose, trying to swallow the pain only to have it choke him on the way down. Cradling his hand close to his chest, he dared not move his fingers and simply kept it close, not even looking at it for fear he’d see blood.

He didn’t need to pass out. That would just be embarrassing.

Instead he sat down on his bed and stared at the wall, trying not to think or feel or do much of anything. If he didn’t move his hand he didn’t feel the pain (the numbing had set in), and if he didn’t think too much he didn’t have to deal with everything that had just happened. He could just sit and pretend he wasn’t anything more than a dumbass who had punched a plaster wall.

But then there was a buzzing in his pocket that made his ‘not thinking’ thing a little difficult, considering the buzzing was right on his ass and had begun to dig into his crack. Sighing, he carefully pulled his mobile out of his back pocket, making sure not to jostle his injured hand. The name on the screen was Loras.

It was like the kid had a homing device on Renly and had it set to tell him whenever he was feeling like shite.

For the first time in a long time, Renly debated the merits of not picking up. He really did not feel like talking to anyone at the moment—Loras or otherwise. His hand was starting to hurt again and he just wanted to be ill. Curl up on his bed and sleep off the reality he’d slammed head first into.

But the need to hear Loras’ voice won over, and he answered with a very dejected ‘hullo’.

“Hey, babe. I’ve got great news!”

“What’s that?” His hand still hurt, but it was easier to not think about how much it hurt with Loras’ voice.

“I got my car back from the shop which means I can come up to visit you.”

Loras’ car had been in the shop for a few weeks. A fancy foreign number, it had to go to one of the manufacturers to get fixed. Loras wouldn’t tell Renly what he’d done to break it, but suffice to say, Renly could only guess it had something to do with being impatient and burning something—probably oil or rubber.

His news, however, wasn’t making Renly happy like it should have. He was still so pissed off and regretful and in pain, he couldn’t think past all of it to see the merit in having Loras come visit and take away all the ache. “That’s great,” he said, biting his bottom lip as he moved his hand to see it is still worked. It was swollen, but he didn’t feel anything pop…

“You alright? You sound pained.” Loras’ voice was heavy with concern now.

“I think so… not sure yet. Might have broken my hand.”

“What?!”

“I sort of punched my wall.”

“ _Sort of_ punched it?”

Renly tucked his mobile between his cheek and shoulder, and began gently prodding his knuckles. They were pink and bruising, but not bleeding. “Actually, I think I just bruised things. I don’t think anything is broken.”

“Renly…” Loras’ tone went down an octave.

“I got into an argument with Robert. I said something and… I punched a wall to feel better.”

Loras was silent for a time before, “Did it help?”

“No.”

“You going to be alright?” Loras asked. Renly felt like a tidal wave of support was trying to break through the speaker of his mobile. It felt good.

“Maybe…” he said. He wasn’t sure if he’d be alright. He’d just had the rug ripped out from under him and it had caught him by surprise, even when he’d been expecting it all his life. Robert didn’t care—everything he’d kept hidden, all the shit he’d went through because he thought Robert would react in some manner, had been for nothing. Because Robert didn’t care. Robert had never cared about him.

He had just wanted some sort of reaction, positive or negative. At least he could deal with being called a faggot and being disowned. At least then he’d have been proven right, although it would have been incredibly painful to deal with. But no—Robert couldn’t even be bothered to feel a goddamn thing.

“—Renly?”

“S-Sorry, I’m just… I’m not sure. Shit happened and I…”

_Don’t want to be here._

He just wanted to leave. Bugger his stubbornness about not wanting to leave because it was _his_ house. Bugger it all. But he thought tell Loras that would make him sound like a little boy—someone who couldn’t deal with the pressures they were under. He didn’t want Loras to think he was incapable of functioning without him…

“And? Come on, tell me what’s up and we’ll figure it out.”

Fuck his pride. “I don’t want to be here anymore.”

It felt good to say it.

“I don’t blame you. How about I come by tomorrow and we can get some coffee? Now that my car is fixed and all I can make the trip.”

“I don’t want to be a bother.”

“You’re never a bother to me, Renly. I mean yes, you can be annoying and completely daft—what with punching walls—but you’re not a bother. I love you and I care about you.”

At least someone cared… Renly needed to remember that more often. Someone cared—a very important someone whom Renly loved and valued more than he’d ever Robert. “You’re a knight, you know that?”

“Come to save my lord whose been kidnapped?”

“Yes—by a loathsome drunkard troll.”

“I’ll be around as soon as I can. In the meantime stop punching things—that’s my job, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay… I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

XX

Usually when someone said they would come by ‘tomorrow’ to have coffee, one expected that ‘tomorrow’ would be during daylight. Renly certainly did, which was why after his call he got ready for bed (it involved a lot of swearing, the consumption of painkillers, and the awkward removal of his pants), crawled in under his covers, curled up around a pillow, and hoped sleep would come soon so he could see Loras in the morning.

Of course, when he said morning he expected sometime around eleven, but more likely later in the afternoon (Loras would only get up early for two things—sex and a morning run). What Renly did not expect, however, was for morning to encompass those early hours after midnight that, whilst still technically ‘morning’, weren’t considered to be appropriate visiting hours—at least, not by most people.

But Loras wasn’t a normal person, and a two twenty-three in the morning, Renly received a phone-call. After much fumbling and swearing, he found it in his covers and answered it before he even checked who was calling.

“Hullo?”

“Come downstairs.”

In Renly’s half-asleep state, the request sounded more like some strange serial killer’s voice rather than his boyfriends, and he debated the merit of hanging up and getting Robert to answer the door, when the serial killer continued, this time less gravely and frightening, and more excitable and friendly.

“Come on—just come downstairs and open your front door. There is a surprise for you.”

A spark of hope light up inside Renly. A part of him hoped what he thought it was—that the surprise was Loras himself—however, the pessimist in him that had blossomed when he was a child wrapped itself around that spark and snuffed it out. Still, he couldn’t help but get up a little faster, the beat of his heart making the bottoms of his feet tingle. While that spark had been snuffed out, there was still a bit of a glimmer.

“What’s going on?” he whispered, deciding to forgo the trousers and go down to face his fate in his boxer-briefs.  

“It’s a surprise—just come down.” Loras sounded like he was jumping around on the spot.

Despite his better judgement, Renly began to hurry, and as he took the steps faster than he ought to, rounded the corner, and saw the front door, he jogged toward it, trying to quell the spark that had risen again, lest he be disappointed in what he saw.

But as the door swung open and a head of curly hair appeared, Renly let that spark turn into a full-out forest fire within him. Immediately and without even thinking about his injured hand, Renly reached out and dragged Loras into a hard hug. Stuffing his face against Loras’ neck, Renly breathed in his scent and gripped the back of his shirt with his good hand, the clatter of his mobile upon the stone steps as it fell nothing more than background noise.

Immediately long, familiar arms wrapped tight around him in return, and Renly couldn’t help but let out a laugh that sounded half like a sob. It just felt good to be _hugged_. He felt safe right now—safe and secure and loved—even if he was half naked and standing out on his porch in the middle of the night.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, not lifting his head from its spot on Loras’ shoulder. He smelled like his favourite cologne and the seaside.

“I’ve come to take you for coffee.”

Lifting his head, he closed his eyes and nuzzled their noses together, sighing as their lips brushed in a tender, long kiss. Once they’d parted, he opened his eyes, and soaked in all Loras’ features. He couldn’t really believe Loras was really here with him. He was in such disbelief he missed Loras’ answer. “I’m sorry,” he said with a chuckle, “I didn’t catch that.”

“I’ve come to take you for coffee,” Loras repeated, and flashed Renly one of his brilliant, and still incredibly innocent, smiles.

“At three in the morning?” he asked, quirking a brow.

“It won’t be three when we get there.” As Loras said this, he began tugging something out of his back pocket. Pulling whatever it was out, he whipped it up between them. It was a folded white slip of paper—nothing special. “Take it,” Loras said, pushing it against Renly’s chest.

Staring at it incredulously, Renly gently plucked it out of Loras’ grasp with his good hand, sending Loras another confused glance before he opened it up to discover there were two slips pressed together, that both read the same thing—a one way ticket from London to Paris on the Eurostar.

“You’re barking mad,” was the first thing out of Renly’s mouth, followed by, “No really, you’re insane.”

“Well we can’t rightly have coffee here—it’s all shit. We Brits don’t know how to make coffee to save our lives. We’ve got to go to Italy.”

“Italy?!”

It was a good thing Renly didn’t care if he woke Robert up with his yelling. He couldn’t help it, though. Loras was talking about running off in the middle of the night.

“Yeah—we hop over to the mainland, rent a car, and just go off—explore Europe for the summer. It’ll be fun!”

“You’re barking mad.” Even as he repeated it he was heading slowly back into the house, holding on to the tickets like they were his way out of Storm’s End—which they technically were. “A bloody lunatic.”

Loras just shrugged. His smile hadn’t changed, Renly’s slow acceptance of the idea not hindering his enthusiasm. “So? Does this mean you’ll come?” he asked, following Renly into the house. Shutting the door behind him, the sound of the ocean died down, and all that was left was the thump of their footsteps and the tick of a clock in the hallway.

The house still sounded like a tomb—void of life and love no matter how hard Renly tried to fill it with something more. The faces of his forgotten parents stared at him as he stood in the hallway, the light from the moon seeping through a window to highlight the glass on the frames. He felt suffocated here; like he couldn’t breathe. He’d wanted nothing more than to run away as a child, and here his chance was. All he had to do was take the hand of the beautiful boy before him and flee.

Robert had proved there was nothing left for him here; there was nothing keeping him back from finally shedding that family name and carving his own path, where he could do what he wanted, not what he thought his family expected of him.

“Let me pack some stuff?” he asked, excitement boiling up inside him, making him shake from nervous energy—good nervous energy.

“I’ll help,” Loras said, and Renly watched as Loras shot up the stairs only to stop at the top and look down at Renly, smiling sheepishly. “Where’s your room?”

Laughing, Renly followed Loras up the steps, patting his ass with his hand gently, causing Loras to let out a hushed yelp and a stifled giggle as they hurried down the hallway, acting more like teenage boys than adults. It was fun, however. He’d never brought a boy home to his room—never a girl, either. His room has always just been his, but now here he was, “sneaking” Loras into it. As soon as they were in Renly shut the door and turned on the light.

Immediately Loras went over to Renly’s bed and flopped down on it, looking very much the cozy cat atop the mussed up blankets. Rolling on to his stomach, he pressed his face against one of his pillows and sighed.

“I missed your smell,” Loras said, lifting his head an inch to let his voice carry. His shirt had ridden up a touch, and Renly noticed that Loras wasn’t wearing any underwear. Cheeky little bugger…

“I missed you,” he said. He made it halfway to his closet before he was veering off to join Loras on the bed. Loras rolled on to his back and pulled Renly down for a kiss, and as if he knew already, gently reached out to cradle Renly’s injured hand in his own, protecting him from putting pressure on it as they positioned themselves so they lay side by side.

Loras tasted of spearmint and steeped black tea, his lips warm and his body hard against his own. This was home to Renly—this was what he’d been missing all this time. He’d been an idiot for refusing to visit Highgarden on the basis that Loras’ family wouldn’t like him. Nothing should have kept him away from all of this. When they pulled apart they were both breathless but content. Renly wanted more (Loras on his bed, slightly dishevelled and breathing heavily was something he never thought he could deny), but they had to drive down to London and make it to the station in time for their trip. Still, it was worth asking if they had the time.

“How fast do you drive?”

“Too fast,” Loras said. He was playing with Renly’s hand gently, running his thumb along his swollen knuckles. It hurt a bit, but Renly didn’t tell him to stop.

“Do we have time to shag? I’ve never had anyone on my bed like this in my old room. Besides—you’re so loud you could wake Robert up and maybe then he’d have a reaction to the news his brother likes cock.”

“Never had revenge sex to get back at a brother before…”

Renly sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. “When you put it like that.”

“This is probably the first and only time you’re going to hear me say this but… we’ve really got no time. We’re going to arrive in London right as the morning rush starts, and it could take a while to get to the station.” Renly was obviously pouting, because Loras’ expression seemed pained. “When we get back? We can come back here and shag all over this bloody place. On the bed, against the wall, in the bathroom—”

“On Stannis’ office desk?”

Loras laughed. “Sure. And we can do everything imaginable on top of it. Whatever you want—we’ll do it.”

“Well now you’re just teasing,” Renly said, nibbling Loras’ bottom lip.

“Mm, we can do these things on our trip, too. Rent a hotel room someplace in Italy—shag and sleep and eat all day.”

“Hopefully not all at the same time,” Renly mumbled, and bit Loras’ lip again. God, he felt and smelled and looked and tasted too goddamn perfect.

“Sleeping and eating might be a bit hard, I agree,” Loras said, “But we could try it if you want to. Whatever you want, I’ll try and do it.”

“You’re perfect.”

“And possibly late. Get up and start packing.” Loras kissed him again before letting go of his hand.

Rolling off the bed Renly made it to his closet this time and began to rummage around, trying to decide on what to take with him. “How long are we going to be gone for?” he asked over his shoulder.

Loras had begun to wander around his room, his curiosity obviously getting the better of him. Renly saw him picking up an old CD out of the corner of his eye and immediately make an expression that told Renly he did not approve of his youthful music choices.

“Dunno. However long we want to go, I suppose. Pack a few shirts and some trousers and we can do laundry while we’re there,” he mumbled as he went through more CDs.

“Well are we going to go to any fancy places to eat?”

Loras shot Renly a look that Renly refused to pay attention to. “Maybe. Bring a dress shirt if you want.”

“But it will wrinkle.”

“Have you never packed to go on vacation before?” Loras asked. Dropping the CDs he came into the closet, his arm automatically wrapping around Renly’s waist. “Shit—you’ve got a lot of clothes, babe.”

Renly had to keep much of his clothing back home when he was at university; the closet space at his own flat restricted enough as it was. He had tried to convince Cuy to allow him to use some of his closet space, but it had been to no avail. Renly liked clothes—he liked looking nice and presentable. It was the one thing that had always separated him from his brothers; his fashion sense and his ability to look good. More people wanted to get to know you and be around you if you wore a well fitted suit than a baggy, frumpy beige thing.

“I think it is the perfect amount,” he said, tugging at the sleeve of a light green top he’d purchased before he left for university. Maybe he’d bring that one… “And to answer your question—I’ve been on trips before, just not on vacations, I suppose.”

“How does that work?”

“I always traveled for events and the like. Robert was so tied up in politics for so long, and I was actually competent at speaking to other human beings, he dragged me around often to meet and greet. I made a good impression when he didn’t. Sort of like… the mascot, I suppose. A well-dressed, handsome, charming and utterly irresistible mascot.”

And another Tiny Tim story to add to Renly’s extensive collection. He should release a box-set; get the whole Baratheon calamity in just six easy payments of twenty pounds.

“You’re sort of hairy like a mascot…” Loras mumbled, a bit distracted as he walked them further into the closet. His hand absentmindedly came up to scratch the trimmed hairs on Renly’s chest. Pulling his gaze away from the collection, he turned to Renly and smiled. “Guess this will be your first vacation, then. Let’s make it a proper one.”

That was what Renly liked about Loras. He never belittled Renly for his upbringing; he never pitied him; he never made him feel like something was _wrong_. Renly knew he didn’t understand but he never expected Renly to explain or defend his upbringing. Loras came from a loving family with supportive older brothers, but never made Renly feel terrible for not having the same opportunities.

He just took Renly’s story for what it was—something that had _happened_ , but did not have to define him. Loras had taken Renly’s sob stories and turned them into an opportunity to experience something new and to make better, more loving memories.

Loras was that adventure Renly had always been looking for.

XX

Their coffee in Italy turned out to be a gritty, thick sludge in a Styrofoam cup from a car rental place in Paris.

It had been a long morning. The drive to the train station had been spent awake, Renly not wanting to sleep while Loras drove, figuring that if Loras was making such an effort to make Renly feel better, he ought to enjoy his presence. But as soon as they got on the train all bets were off, Loras collapsing against Renly’s side, head resting on his shoulder and curls tickling his nose, sleep claiming him after spending the entire night awake and alert.

It took Renly a little longer to fall asleep, but when he did it felt like he’d only shut his eyes for a second. They were both woken by a middle-aged woman seated on the other side of the lane, her hair a bit frazzled but eyes warm and touch soft as she shook Renly, telling him in French that they had arrived. From there, groggy and a bit confused, they wandered hand in hand toward a car rental place, not realizing that they’d have to wait a while before they’d actually get to speak to anyone.

It was summer time by now, the tourist season having kicked in, and as they stepped through the sliding glass doors a line appeared that promised of a long wait. Immediately Loras let out a low growl and headed toward the complimentary coffee, mumbling something about how he needed caffeine before he’d wait in line.

They didn’t wait in line, however. As soon as they had their coffee (Loras’ was more sugar and cream with a little coffee), they wandered outside and sat down on the pavement, leaning up against the side of the building in the back alleyway where the morning light was reaching.

“I forgot the body needs sleep and nourishment,” Loras mumbled. His hair had gone frizzy, the top of his head a halo of scraggly hairs that caught the sun’s rays. He was peering down at his coffee like an owl, blowing on it to make it cool.

“How long have you been awake for?” Renly asked, taking a sip of his black coffee. It tasted like shit, but it was better than nothing.

“Except for that two hour nap on the train…” he tapped his fingers on his knee, counting the hours, “about twenty-two hours? I dunno, been a while. I was up early yesterday for training.”

“I’d apologize, but I know you wouldn’t accept it.” Reaching up, he tucked a curl behind Loras’ ear.

“You apologize too much for things you don’t need to apologize for. I swear, you think you’re one walking, talking inconvenience.” Loras was exasperated, but there was a hint of fondness to his tone. Sitting back against the wall, Loras kicked his feet out, and immediately Renly did the same, but hooked his leg over Loras’ own. This was Paris—no one cared about two gay British blokes sitting in an alleyway together.

They sat in comfortable silence for a little while, listening to the coo of a pigeon and the honk of horns in the distance. A few cars rolled out of the parking lot as they sat, but they didn’t bother to go check to see if the line had diminished at all. They just sipped their coffee whilst Renly slowly sunk into the realisation that he’d finally grabbed the bull by the horns and done what he’d wanted to do.

It felt good. It felt better than good. There was something about being utterly liberated that Renly couldn’t really describe with just simple English words. It was like he’d been chained down and gagged for all his life, only to have the cage open and the gag removed, and now he could speak his mind and be who he wanted to be, not who he thought he was _expected_ to be. Running off gave him a new perspective on his argument with Robert. Things seemed less dire in the morning. Things were even more beautiful when that sunset was shared with the man he loved, who had come to rescue him from his self-imposed exile in a tower full of dead memories.

“I came out to Robert,” Renly said, then took too long a drink of his still hot coffee.

“Didn’t go well, I assume?”

“Not really… but for bizarre reasons.”

Loras scooted a little closer and rested his head on Renly’s shoulder. “Go on.”

“He didn’t do anything when I told him. Like… nothing. No reaction at _all_. We Baratheons are known for our tempers—”

“Your hand would attest to that.”

“—And we usually always have something to say about what the others are doing. It was like he didn’t even care…”

“You sure he didn’t care?” Loras shifted so his chin was pressed against Renly’s shoulder, and peered up at him. “Sure he wasn’t just hiding it?”

Renly thought back to Robert’s face and how he just stared at the telly—didn’t even bother to look at Renly, no matter how many times he tried to get his attention. At the time Renly had read it as now caring, but could it have been more?

“Does it matter?” he finally decided. “He didn’t say anything and that’s that.”

Loras went back to using Renly as a pillow. His curls tickled Renly’s skin, but it was pleasant and familiar. “I guess it doesn’t… was his not caring what caused the wall punch?”

“Sort of, yeah. I just… started thinking about how I stayed in the closet for so long because I wanted to fit in. I wanted to be… _normal_ , so that my brothers would have no reason to push me away. I hated being a Baratheon, yet was so afraid they’d disown me, you know?”

“So you expected more of a reaction?”

“I _wanted_ more of a reaction. At least if he got violent I’d have an excuse to hit him back. I just wanted to feel like I mattered to him, even if I fucking hate him.”

He was silent then. The noise on the streets was increasing, people venturing off to work for the day. The sun had risen high enough that they were now completely cast in its warmth, and Renly was beginning to feel it prickly the skin on his nose. Even just sitting here, in an alleyway that was starting to smell, with a cup of coffee that tasted like tar and gravel, and with a swollen hand that ached whenever he so much as moved his fingers, Renly felt happier than he’d ever felt before.

Because he was with Loras.

He was with someone who mattered to him.

“I think I can move on now, though,” he said.

Loras stirred, lifting his head from Renly’s shoulder. Pressing a kiss against his cheek, Renly could feel Loras smile pressed into his skin. “Move on from what?” he asked, pulling away. He finished his coffee off in one fell swoop, and tossed the cup at a garbage bin.

“From my family. It never really was my family, you know? They always say you can’t pick your family, but I think that’s just utter shit. You can pick your family—you can pick the people you want to be around and who you want to support. Genetics don’t mean anything when it comes down to it. It’s all about love.”

He turned to look at Loras, soaking him in and everything that he represented. His hair was blazon gold in the sun, the corners of his beautiful hazel eyes scrunched up as he squinted, and there was a silly little smile on his lips that hinted at silent triumph.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Renly asked, but even as he asked he reflected that same smile back at him.

“Nothing… just happy you finally see what I’ve been seeing all along.” Reaching out, he curled his finger under Renly’s chin and scratched him gently, coaxing him in for a lazy, coffee tasting kiss. “No matter what happens between us, I’ll always be here for you, Ren. Always. Because we’re family, you and I.”

And with a simple kiss in a back alley in Paris, with a cold cup of coffee and a knapsack filled with goods fit for a proper runaway, Renly finally found that inner peace and acceptance he’d been looking for all his life.

 The End


End file.
